The Guardian
by King Caspian the Seafarer
Summary: Aravis' older brother died in the Tisroc's wars...or did he? Come, gentle reader, and be acquainted with the story of Asharaad Tarkaan, soldier of Calormen and spy for Archenland. Completed.
1. Prologue

**The Guardian**

_Being the true account of the elder brother of Aravis Tarkheena: Asharaad Tarkaan, and his exploits in the West of Calormen, his saving of a Daughter of the Tisroc (mayheliveforever), and his coming into Narnia._

_**Disclaimer: The author of this fanfiction owns nothing within save the words in which the story is communicated.**  
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_Prologue_

In the province of Calavar in the land of Calormen, a dark-skinned boy paced anxiously in a garden.

He was only seven years old, rather young to be wandering alone in a garden at night (which explained the shadowed forms of two nursemaids who would rather be hovering over him but had satisfied themselves with waiting beside a desert rose tree and watching the child nervously). And although his silky black hair, windblown and rumpled, gave him the appearance of a mischievous urchin, the fine fabric of his tunic and leggings, as well as the unconscious air of magnanimity that he wore (amusingly) like a cloak, both told of his noble heritage.

From time to time the youth raised his scowling face from the stones to the stars as he marched back and forth along the paved paths. Ah, the stars—they gleamed in the sky like a thousand silver islands in a sea of velvet black, with the setting moon a full, luminous ball that looked so real and large that young Asharaad often reached up to grab it from the sky, only to be disappointed when his hands touched nothing at all.

The nursemaids began murmuring to each other (quietly, so as not to disturb the young master), but they silenced their chatter quickly when the garden gate opened, and a servant limped through. Jerking his head erect, the boy turned and leapt forward to meet the old man who was his father's scribe.

"Yazhaan!" exclaimed young Asharaad, "You know something? Have they called for me? Is it—all right?"

"I regret, son of my Master, that I have no news for thee yet," declared the servant, bowing his balding head ruefully. "The Mistress is yet in pain, and if wilt not go to thy bed, there is naught to do but wait."

"Why is it taking so long?" the child asked, his scowl returning as he brushed at his eye. He'd been awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of bustle, as well as the sounds of someone in pain. "It must be awful, for I can sometimes hear screams from inside the house—like the screams that woke me."

"It is the way that children have entered the world from the beginning of time," old Yazhaan told the boy, gently. "As the poet said, 'It is the rigor of breaking the shell of the nut that makes the meat inside worth the trouble'."

"Do not speak to me of nuts and shells," grumbled Asharaad, who was, in the manner of most young Calormene children, rather impatient with the poets. He turned away from the old scribe, but then had a thought. "Stay, and tell me of the stars to make me not mind the screaming."

Old Yazhaan was very adept at hiding smiles. He did so now, as he complied with the young master's request.

"Do you see that star, son of my Master?" the old scribe asked, pointing to what was, for the moment, the very brightest star in the sky. The boy squinted at it, wrinkling his nose as he strove to see.

"The one above the fountain, you mean?"

"As the monkey who had been bitten said to the snake who'd bitten him in midleap, 'Your eyes are sharper than the stingers of thy mouth,'" said old Yazhaan, smiling. "That is the Seventh Star of Harvest, the eye of the Jealous Maiden who chases the Hunter across the sky when the leaves of the tree turn red."

"The Jealous Maiden?" Asharaad asked, sounding somewhat intimidated, as he met the wickedly flashing star and wondered how he would feel if it was really someone's eye. "Tis a horrid name. I don't like it, and I don't like her. Give it a new name."

Again, the old scribe's practice in restraining his amusement was put to a serious test. After a moment of what the young Asharaad thought was contemplation, the old man mused, "There is another tale about this star, which our poets heard from the north lands, where the snow is silver like yon moon. Their poets say the star is a Great Lady, whose torch guides the sun as he rises in the morning."

The youth, who had perked up at the word "snow", looked with renewed interest upon the star. It was no longer frightening. "Has the Great Lady a name?"

With a bitter smile, the old scribe nodded and replied, "The Lord Sun cries her name as he rises, as do the gulls (who taught it to our birds, the rooks) when they see him show his face each morn. 'Aravir! Aravir!' It is a northern name, son of my Master," he added, seeing the young brow wrinkle at a kind of name the boy had never heard before.

"Aravir." The young boy rolled it around in his mouth, and found it tasted sweet. "Aravir. The Lady who brings the Dawn. How did she come to be in the sky?"

However, as old Yazhaan opened his mouth to answer, the garden gate burst open, and a slender servant girl burst through, panting as though she'd been running. She straightened and bowed when they turned to look at her, and then said, a bit breathlessly, "O son of my Master, your father bids you come inside, for the perils of the night are past and all is well."

"All is well!" exclaimed the boy as the scowl on his face vanished, and he began glowing almost as brightly as the stars. "They're calling for me!"

He turned to look at the old scribe, who was watching him fondly in silence, and became suddenly serious. Young Asharaad bowed his head quickly and said, "I will call the name of the Great Lady with Lord Sun, when he rises in the morn."

The old man could not keep from smiling this time, as he nodded. "He will be glad for the company, as he sings the day to life."

And then, with a flash of a grin, the boy turned and pounded through the gate and up into the household of his father. The servant girl followed, begging him (in a low voice, for fear of waking guests of the house) to have a care as he ran past artifacts and pieces of artwork worth more than her life. However, the child did not slow until he reached an open door, where the glow from inside cast a warm light on the rest of the dark, somber house.

"Mother?" he cried, pausing at the door to look in. He paused, struck by the beauty of the scene.

A woman was resting upon the bed, leaning back among the pillows as a servant combed her hair with perfume. Her name was Azaraleen Tarkheena, and she smiled when she saw the boy standing in the doorway, uncertain of whether or not to come in.

"Asharaad!" she exclaimed softly, half raising her hand to him, but then recalling something that caused her to draw it back.

A wide grin spread across his face, and the boy went forward to embrace her, to touch her, to see that she was really and truly well. It seemed impossible that the screams had been hers, so comfortable and well did she look. Before he reached her, though, a hand closed on his arm and drew him back.

"You must not touch her yet, my son," said the voice of the boy's father—a tall man with a neatly clipped beard whose name of Kidrash Tarkaan was well loved in the province of Calavar, over which he was lord. "She is unclean for three more days, and then you may embrace her."

The boy, clearly not understanding, gave his father a slight scowl, but stepped back a bit obediently. He could not, however, resist the urge to call out, "You are well then, Mother? I feared for you, such that I could not sleep!"

Her eyes laughed at him, the weary, loving sort of laughing which he didn't mind at all. In fact, it made him want to laugh with her. Then her gaze flickered up to her husband and she said, "My husband? Mean you to let him wait forever?"

"Wait for what?" Asharaad asked, a furrow appearing in his brow. His father gestured to a servant who was holding a bundle of clothes—the boy's old nursemaid, in fact. He recognized her because she was fatter than most their servants, with a kindly, cooing way of talking. She handed the bundle of clothes to the Tarkaan, who then crouched down next to his son.

It was not a bundle of clothes. There was a dark face amid the olive color of the cloth, with ruddy cheeks and a tiny, delicate nose. The wrinkled rosebud of her mouth was open, as the babe breathed in and out, squeaking as it did. But the most interesting thing about the baby, the thing from which young Asharaad could not look away, were a pair of large, dark eyes, staring up at him intelligently.

"She is thy sister, my son," said Kidrash softly. "It is tradition that the eldest son shall give name to his sister, for although you were named for your ancestor, she is set apart from our line."

"Husband," said Azaraleen, eyeing her son with a little concern. "Perhaps he is too young. Surely—"

The words meant nothing to the boy, who was staring intently at the babe's dark eyes. In the corner of each, there was a little star, bright and joyful, and speaking to him, somehow. He looked up and around the room and froze as a servant drew back the curtain and let in the first sunbeam of morning. The sun was rising, and suddenly he heard the rooks crying in the trees outside. Aravir. Aravir. But he couldn't call her that.

"Aravis," Asharaad said, saying the name firmly and deliberately, meeting those dark, new eyes and watching as the little stars in them shone. "I name her Aravis, for she came and called the sun, and there was dawn."

And his mother, who had heard the self-same story from old Yazhaan when she was but a girl, was content.


	2. Chapter 1: Bows and arrows

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia.**

**A/N: This chapter takes place five years after the last chapter. Aravis is five; Shar is twelve. Enjoy, and please review!**

_--Chapter 1--_

_Five years later…_

A deer grazed slowly in a peaceful pasture. The green grass was lush and thick, and the doe, a young fawn by her side, nibbled the living carpet delicately.

A sudden sound from the bushes startled the doe, and her head came up instantly as she searched the woods around her for the source of the sound. After a moment of scanning her surroundings, the doe, satisfied that there was no threat to her or her fawn, resumed eating, though listening carefully as she chewed. A young boy crouched behind a tree, as still as stone. In his hands, he grasped a wooden bow, holding it out at arm's length. His arm shook as he took aim at the doe, clutching the arrow tightly as he pulled it back slowly.

"What 'cha doing, Shar?" came a sharp, piping voice from behind the boy.

Shar let loose the arrow, which missed the doe and landed with a thud in a nearby tree. The deer and her fawn bounded away, leaving the boy staring glumly after her.

"Aravis!" he shouted, turning crossly to his five year old sister. "What were you thinking?"

The little girl's lip quivered.

"I'm sorry, Shar," she said in a small voice. "But Mother is ill and I want to play with you."

"Why don't you go play with Lana?" Shar asked irritably, referring to the child's nursemaid.

"Lana's busy. Oh Shar," she cried, changing the subject and gazing up at her older brother in awe, "can I shoot your bow?"

In the five years since Aravis' birth, Asharaad's life had changed drastically. Now he was the 'big brother'. His mother was always ill, and their father was almost never home. Even his name had changed. Aravis hadn't been able to say 'Asharaad' as a baby, so she shortened it to 'Shar'. He hadn't really minded the nickname.

"Aravis," Shar sighed, running a hand through his thick black hair while looking down at his sister with an admonishing look, "you know how Father feels about girls and weapons."

Aravis looked down in disappointment, but glanced up again quickly, batting her long, dark lashes at him and begging him with her eyes. Shar sighed in resignation as he realized that resistance was futile.

"All right."

He was rewarded with a dazzling smile as Aravis grabbed the bow with her chubby fingers.

"Here," he said, leaning down and moving her hands into position. "You hold it like this."

"No!" Aravis shrieked, "I know how to do it!"

"As you wish, my sister, but it won't work," Shar warned, pulling back and crossing his arms as he watched her.

Aravis grasped the bow stubbornly in her chubby hands and tried to shoot the arrow. The string was too hard for her to pull back very far, but she managed to bend the bow a little bit. When she released the string, however, the arrow fell to her feet, and the string grazed her arm with a sharp 'twang'. Aravis screamed in pain, and Shar had her in his arms in a moment.

"Shhh," he comforted. "Be calm, Aravis. 'Twill be all right, little princess."

As usually happened when he called her that, Aravis calmed down and stopped crying.

"Tell me a story, Shar," she said after a moment.

"What?"

"Tell me a story!"

Shar sighed yet again, and lowered himself to the ground, where he sat cross-legged, setting his sister in his lap.

"All right. Once there was a princess called…"

"Aravis!" his sister said quickly. It was rather amusing, Shar thought, that all the stories he told his little sister somehow incorporated a character named 'Aravis' into them. 'Aravis' was usually a princess, or at least the heroine.

"All right. Princess Aravis. She lived in a castle with her parents, servants, and older brother. One day, when the princess was playing in the garden, an evil dragon swooped down from the sky and carried the princess away!"

"Dragon!" Aravis breathed, her brown eyes getting big.

"But Aravis had a brave brother who loved her very much. He was a knight. He put on his armor, and rode off on his horse to save the princess from the dragon!"

"But you're not a knight," protested the ever practical Aravis.

"I will be one day," Shar insisted, glancing upward at the sky, which was clouding over. "Anyway, Sir Shar found the dragon's cave. He fought the dragon and killed it, and carried Princess Aravis home to the castle."

"And they lived happily ever after!" Aravis finished with a giggle.

"Come on, your highness." Shar said, ruffling her hair and grinning at her. "Let us return to the house before it starts to rain."

"Wait!" Aravis cried, grabbing his hand and stopping him.

Shar waited, turning back to give her a patient look that is characteristic of kind older brothers. Aravis pointed to the bow and arrow on the ground.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

Shar shook his head at those dark eyelashes and sweet brown eyes. How could he not?

"Here," he instructed, placing his arms around her again. With his help, Aravis shot her first arrow straight into the soft bark of a nearby tree.

"Good shot!" Shar exclaimed, giving her a squeeze.

Aravis beamed up at him, and he stroked her messy curls, which obviously hadn't been brushed that morning, but made her look quite sweet.

"Oh Aravis!" he murmured with a grin, "what am I going to do with you?"

It was then that Aravis' servant appeared.

"O my Master," she said, curtseying deeply, "the Lady of the house, your exalted mother, has requested your presence in her chambers at once."

"Thank you, Lana," Shar replied. "Come on, Princess. Mother needs us."

"Is she going to die?" Aravis asked seriously, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought.

"Of course not, silly!" Shar exclaimed certainly, poking her on the nose merrily; but his certainty was only faked. What if she did die?

The two children walked together to their mother's room. Shar remembered a time before when it had been like this. The last time their mother had been sick abed and asked for his presence had been the night when Aravis was born. Could this be…no, Shar thought. Surely not another. When they entered Azleen's bedroom however, and he spied a white bundle in her arms, he realized that it was so.

"Oh Mother! A baby brother!" Aravis cried, peeking down at the newborn's face. "Can I name him?"

"No, dear," Azleen replied, smiling at her daughter and stroking her cheek lovingly. "Your father and I have already named him. His name is Rishdi, like his exalted grandfather, may the gods give him peace."

"But Shar was my namer!" Aravis protested.

"That is enough, my daughter," Kidrash stated sharply, appearing suddenly from the shadows.

"Yes, O my Father," said Aravis obediently, lowering her eyes.

"Return to your chambers," the man commanded.

Aravis turned to go, but Shar saw tears of resentment burning in the little girl's eyes. She hated to be ordered around. Shar turned to leave as well, but just as he reached the door, he overheard a short exchange from his parents. Azleen said, "O my Husband, why must you be so hard on her?"

Shar looked back in time to see the Tarkaan's face harden.

"Have not the poets said that many sons exalt a man, but many daughters are like a wound in the side? Our daughter is stubborn and willful, Azleen. How many men would marry such a girl?"

Shar slipped out quietly and followed Aravis to her room. He gave her a gentle before he left, hoping that it would make up for at least a little bit of the disappointment of that afternoon.

"I love you, little princess," he whispered in her ear.

Aravis looked up into his face, complete trust softening her features and making her eyes light up.

"I love you too, Shar!"

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_**TBC…. **_

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	3. Chapter 2: A Mischievous Prank

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. Need I say anything more?**

**A/N: This chapter takes place five years after the last chapter. Aravis is 10 and Shar is 17. I had a lot of fun with this one…it has my attempt at writing one of the most entertaining characters created by C.S. Lewis: Lasaraleen Tarkheena. ;) Please review.**

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**--Chapter 2--**

_Another five years later…_

The table was covered in all sorts of wonderful and mysterious foods, but Aravis wasn't impressed. She had seen so many feasts and banquets in the past week that she was ready to start a food fight just so that something out of the ordinary would happen. It was the first week of the Autumn Feast, and Aravis was expected to act like a 'young lady' throughout the entire thing. She sighed and stared out the window. Life was so dull without Shar. If he had been there, the two of them would have been able to make fun of Zamiraleena Tarkeena, the strict, cross noblewoman who was staying with Kidrash and his family. But Shar had gone off to train and fight in the Tisroc's wars to the west of Calormene when he turned sixteen. He had been gone one whole year; a terrible year for his younger sister.

"Oh Aravis," giggled Lasaraleen, another friend who was staying with them, "did you see Prince Rabadash at the celebration ceremony last night? Wasn't he simply gorgeous?"

Lasaraleen was only thirteen, three years older than Aravis, but she was already 'in love' with eleven different people, most of them several years older than her. Prince Rabadash, her newest addition to her 'love list', was all of 23, exactly ten years her elder, but that made no difference to Lasaraleen.

"I can say," Aravis replied absently. She glared down at all the forks and spoons in front of her. "Now which one was the fruit fork?" she muttered crossly, not at all interested in remembering.

"What was that?" asked Zamiraleena Tarkeena from her right elbow. The middle aged lady had taken it upon herself to instruct Aravis in the ways of being a lady, and to watch after both Aravis and Lasaraleen.

"Nothing!" Aravis replied hastily.

"Oh, I say, Aravis," Lasaraleen giggled, "do you know that young man who just came in?"

Aravis looked up immediately, and her heart leapt as she saw the tall, dark figure in the door, one that had been missed terribly for a long, long year.

"Shar!" she choked, her eyes filling with tears of joy.

"So you do know him? He's awfully handsome, Aravis. Do you think we might be introduced?" Lasaraleen babbled. Aravis wasn't listening. She was already out of her seat and running toward her older brother.

"Shar!" she cried. Mistress Zamiraleena looked on in disapproval.

He turned when he heard his name, and when he saw Aravis, Shar grinned broadly and held out his arms.

"Aravis!" he greeted her, hugging her tightly as she lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Oh Shar! I missed you so much!" she gasped, holding him like she would never let go and burying her face in his tunic.

"Calm yourself, little princess," her brother said soothingly. "What's seems to be the trouble?"

"Here she comes now," Aravis said with a heavy sigh as Lasaraleen sauntered across the room to them.

"Aravis, darling," she giggled, not even pretending to look at Aravis, but batting her eyes sweetly at Shar, "won't you introduce me? I've been so good to you lately, and I am your best friend."

"Las, this is my brother Shar," Aravis stated dutifully, glaring at her so called 'best friend', "Shar, Lasaraleen Tarkeena."

Shar began to laugh, and tried to hide it by turning the laugh into a cough. He had heard about Lasaraleen. Who hadn't? She was the most flirtatious creature in Calormen, it was said!

"Lasaraleen, Aravis has told me so much about you," Shar said with a sly wink at Aravis. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Ooh!" Lasaraleen swayed, "It's my pleasure, Shar. I may call you Shar, mayn't I? And won't you come sit with us? I'm sure you have all sorts of fascinating stories to tell."

"I would love to, O lovely Tarkheena, but I must speak with my father first," Shar said, giving Aravis an apologetic glance as she gave him a puzzled one. "If you will excuse me?"

He headed toward Kidrash, who was frowning in his direction already.

"O my Father!" Shar said in greeting as he stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"Why art thou here, O my Son?" Kidrash asked bluntly, not even attempting to veil his disapproval of seeing his son again. Many fierce quarrels had taken place between the two before Shar had left to fight in the Tisroc's wars, and the two were like wolves, watching each other warily, neither feeling any respect or affection for the other.

"I have returned to see Mother," Shar explained through gritted teeth. "I heard tell that she was ill. How is she?"

"Your exalted mother is in the hands of the gods. She felt too ill to appear tonight at the feast."

"Might I stay and feast with you for a while, O my Father?" Shar asked.

Kidrash sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists and trying not to draw any curious glances from his guests.

"You have my permission, O my Son. You will take your place beside Lasaraleen Tarkeena."

"If I must, Father," Shar said with a bow, barely managing to hide a smile. "But if I may ask, why her?"

"Her father is a man of importance, O my Son. Much joy would be between us if our households were allied by a joining of our offspring."

_You must be joking! _Shar thought, wincing at the proposition. Lasaraleen was the worst thing that had ever happened to Aravis. It was time to pay her back. Shar made his way over to Aravis and Lasaraleen.

"My greeting, O lovely ladies," he said, sitting down beside Lasaraleen and giving her a dashing smile.

Lasaraleen giggled girlishly, and Aravis rolled her eyes. Shar winked at her, and a sudden grin lit her face as she realized what was going on. With Shar's return, all the pranks and fun that had left with him would now return as well.

"So Shar," the smitten Lasaraleen murmured demurely, "What do you think of my dress? It's the very latest in fashion at present. Of course, as my father knows, I must have nothing but the very latest. It wouldn't do to appear unfashionable among all the other Tarkheenas, now would it? So what _do_ you think?"

Shar thought it looked like a dress he'd seen on the Tisroc's fattest and ugliest wife, but he didn't say so. It had all the different colors of the rainbow, and had far too many bows and ruffles. Shar hated it, but he said, "The dress is very…fashionable, my lady."

Under the table, he reached into his tunic and pulled out a small satchel of powder, which he ripped open and poured into his hand. With one wave of his fingers, he threw the powder in the air all around Lasaraleen. Aravis looked confused. Lasaraleen simply smiled up at Shar, giggling giddily once or twice. After a moment, though, she sneezed. It was a small, dainty sneeze, like all Tarkeenas should sneeze, but it was followed almost immediately by another sneeze. Aravis bit back a wicked giggle as she realized the prank. Lasaraleen sneezed very loudly, knocking over Zamiraleena's wine glass as she did! Zamiraleena jumped to her feet. Her face was red with rage; the blotchy stains from the wine on her long yellow gown almost matched it in color.

"Lasaraleen!" she cried, "What ever is the matter with you?"

But Lasaraleen couldn't answer. Her sneezing fit grew so violent that she had to leave the table. By then, everyone had noticed her predicament, and many nervous chuckles came from the other end. Aravis and Shar tried to keep a straight face, but the Tarkeena finally noticed the smirks on their faces.

"O wicked children of our most illustrious host!" she cried, pointing at them with a condemning finger. "You poisoned her!"

Kidrash appeared at her elbow, pulling her back.

"O my guest, why do you accuse my children?"

"I saw them, O mighty Tarkaan! They were _laughing_ at her!" Zamiraleena proclaimed, drawing a gasp and a few chuckles from the other guests.

Kidrash frowned at his two children who were now both looking at their shoes.

"O my Children," he said in a low voice, "what say you to this?"

Shar didn't answer, and Kidrash sighed.

"What am I going to do with you? Go. Leave this hall at once!"

Aravis and Shar turned to go, seeming sorry to all around them. But when they got into the courtyard, the restrained laughter could not be held back any longer. Aravis nearly collapsed onto a bench, laughing wildly, and Shar joined her.

"Did you see the look on her face?" Aravis gasped, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Ach-oo!" Shar replied, imitating Lasaraleen's dainty sneeze perfectly and sending Aravis into another round of giggles.

"Oh Shar!" she sighed when they had calmed down. "I'm so glad you're back!"

Shar winced, causing Aravis to turn to look at him.

"You are staying, aren't you, my brother?"

"I can't, Aravis," Shar replied.

"Why not?" she wailed. "It's so dull around here without you!"

"Father doesn't like me around anymore. And anyway, you still have Didi."

Didi was their little brother's nickname, invented by Aravis because she thought that Rishdi was too solemn a name for such a little boy.

"But why is Father so angry with you?"

"Because I don't agree with him. I don't like fighting for the Tisroc's cause."

"May he live forever," Aravis muttered out of habit.

Shar rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You see, I've begun to realize that our life in Calormene, the system of government and all that, aren't working out as well as some countries. Father disagrees."

"Shar! Shar!" came a childish cry from behind the two.

Shar whirled around and spotted the source of the cry. He spread his arms out and caught the little boy who was running toward him.

"Didi!" he exclaimed, swinging his little brother around. "Look at you! How much you've grown."

Didi stood up straight as Shar put him down.

"Do you really think I'm taller?" he asked hopefully, standing on his tip-toes.

"Of course you are!" Shar replied with a grin, rumpling Didi's hair fondly.

"I missed you," the little boy said sincerely. "So did Aravis. She cried sometimes."

"Didi!" Aravis exclaimed, blushing furiously. "You promised not to tell!"

"It's all right, little princess," Shar said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I missed you too."

The three siblings stood for a moment. A servant interrupted the silence, appearing at the entrance to the courtyard and saying, "O my Master, your mother is worse. She is calling for you."

Shar looked at the servant carefully. She didn't look familiar. She had long black hair, but her skin was strangely pale. There was a strange gleam in her dark eyes. The thought entered his mind that he would have remembered her if he had seen her before. Aravis pulled on his arm.

"Come on, Shar!"

They made their way to Azleen's room.

"Who was that servant?" Shar asked Aravis.

Aravis curled her lip in disdain.

"That was one of the slaves that Mistress Zamiraleena brought with her."

"No wonder I haven't seen her before."

The three turned a corner, and reached their mother's chambers.

"O my Mother?" Shar asked at the door.

Hearing no answer, he and the others stepped in. Their mother lay still on her bed. Her face was ghostly white and her eyes were closed, dark lashes resting peacefully on her cheeks. Kidrash was sitting on a chair beside the bed, his head in his hands. Zamiraleena lurked in the shadows behind him, one hand on his shoulder.

"Mother!" Didi cried, running to Azleen.

When he got to her, he touched her hand, drawing back immediately as if he'd been bitten.

"Mother you're so cold!"

Aravis and Shar stood frozen in the doorway, neither bearing to move.

"O disrespectful children of my host!" Zamiraleena hissed cruelly, snatching Didi's hand away and pushing him back toward the others. "Leave the dead in peace, and let your father alone to mourn for his wife."

"Mother?" Didi asked, his lip quivering.

"Come on, Didi," Shar said, picking the little boy up and giving him a gentle squeeze. He carried the child to his room and then sat down on the bed beside him.

"I don't feel well," Aravis said quietly, her eyes wide and frightened. "I'm going to my room."

Shar watched her turn and stumble away and almost wished he had a room to flee to.

"What's wrong with Mother?" Didi asked, his voice innocent and sad.

"Well," Shar said, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Mother is in a very long sleep, Didi. But this time, she will never wake."

"But I want her!" Didi cried, bursting into tears.

"I know. So do I. We'll see her again some day," Shar promised.

With that, he left his younger brother and went off to find Aravis. Even though he'd been gone for a year, he still remembered every passageway and where they would lead, so he found her room in a matter of minutes.

"Aravis?" he said, peeking in.

Aravis was sprawled on the bed, her face buried in pillows, crying as if her heart would break.

"Oh Aravis!" he said softly, sitting down beside her. "It'll be okay."

"No it won't, Shar," she sobbed. "Mother's gone, and Father's sure to marry that witch Zamiraleena."

Shar patted her back, and eventually she calmed down.

"Shar?"

"What, Aravis?"

"Don't go!"

Shar sighed. How did she know he was about to leave?

"I have to, Aravis. Here," he held out two objects to her, "you might need these. Keep them so you won't forget me."

Aravis looked at them, and smiled through her tears. The first item was a long dagger, sharp as a sword. Its gold plated hilt was encrusted with several costly gems. The second object was a little packet of sleeping powder. Aravis let out a giggle.

"Thanks, Shar," she whispered, hugging him one last time. "I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss you too!" he said, leaving her room.

He squared his shoulders as he marched to the stable. It was back to the battle field.

* * *

_**TBC……..**_


	4. Chapter 3: A Damsel in Distress

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. **

**A/N: Please comment! This chapter kind of came out of thin air. I had written it really short to begin with, but a sudden burst of inspiration made me change the chapter entirely. Enjoy!**

Three years later…

The sounds of swords and the cries of men filled the ears of Asharad Tarkaan. The Tisroc's wars had sounded glorious in the tales Shar's cousin had told, but in real life, they were nothing short of terrifying. Not that Shar was always on the front line of battle. He usually was not, but war was not all he had thought it would be.

"Shar!" came a hiss from beside him.

"What Tran?" he whispered back.

Tran, unbeknownst to their commander, was really a spy from Archenland! Tran thought his identity was still a secret, but Shar, noticing something strange about the young man, had watched him one day, only to discover that Tran stained his skin with a special salve every day. Shar didn't know why he hadn't turned him in.

"When do we attack?" Tran hissed.

The two young men huddled together behind several fallen trees, waiting for the fighting to begin.

"How am I supposed to-" Shar stopped, squinting at another figure a few yards away. "Wait! That's the signal!"

Shar and all the other men in their company charged forward. For the past two years they had been fighting a fierce people from the far West. They called themselves Telmarines. After weeks and months of fighting the Telmarines, however, the Calormenes now had something real to fight about. A Calormene princess, a daughter of the Tisroc (may he live forever), had been stolen away by the invaders at her summer palace near the lake of Mezreel in the West of Calormene. The Tisroc, infuriated that these foreigners would dare to do such a thing, had insisted that she be rescued. Now, the Calormenes were not simply driving back invaders from another country and securing their borders; now, they were on a desperate mission to rescue the royal princess of Tashbaan.

"Shar, duck!" Tran cried as a large Telmarine swung his axe at the boy. Shar ducked just in time, and Tran's sword made short work of the warrior.

"Thanks," Shar said shakily.

"No prob--" began Tran, but before he could say another word, Shar tackled him to the ground.

"What are you doing?" Tran asked.

Then he saw the huge spear lodged in the tree behind him.

"Oh."

The two young men bravely fought their way through the Telmarines, the two of them almost leading the charge. Finally, they found the enemy giving way. Recalling their commanders message about the princess, Shar's searched for the cave-like structure they were holding her in, supposedly very near the Telmarines' encampment where the victorious Calormenes were now standing. It was almost impossible to locate, as the rocky, mountainous terrain was covered with cliffs and crags. Finally, he happened to glance upward and see a small piece of white flying in the wind. Shar sheathed his sword and scrambled up the rocky ground, keeping his eyes and senses alert. Tran was right behind him, a bit slower for lack of practice in rock climbing, but still close behind. When Shar reached the white thing, he drew his sword and looked around before approaching it. When no enemy appeared, he stepped forward to have a closer look at the mysterious object. It was a piece of cloth, neatly ripped off of some larger garment. It was fine material, thin and fine, and Shar knew that only the wealthy could afford such fabric.

"I found something!" he told Tran, who was watching his back.

"What is it?" his friend asked, staring at the cloth in obvious ignorance.

Shar raised his head and looked up at the craggy caves and cliffs with a grim smile on his face.

"I think we've found the princess."

Shar drew his sword and climbed the cliff face cautiously. If the Telmarines had brought the princess this way, than they would have had an easy route. Princesses were not known for their agility and climbing ability. Then, he saw something. Shar stooped down smoothly and carefully touched the ground. It was the unmistakable print of a dainty slipper, intentionally obvious on the only patch of dirt on the entire mountainside. Shar allowed himself a small smile. This princess was clever. He looked upward and could see the rocky 'staircase' the Telmarines had used.

"Soldier!"

Shar looked back and saw his Calormene captain standing down below.

"Do not continue! Wait for reinforcements!"

Shar frowned. The Telmarines now knew they were coming. They had to have gotten news that the Calormenes had beaten them back, and were sure to escape with the princess if he didn't press on. Slowly, he shook his head. The princess' life was more important than following orders.

"I can't hear you!" he lied, feeling a pang inside as he did so.

Tran winced behind him.

"You're going to get it, man," he said, shaking his head. He didn't try to stop Shar, though, as he scrambled up the mountain. Tran looked down at the captain for a second, and the followed his friend. After several minutes of hard climbing, Shar noticed a slight movement from above. A Telmarine sentry stood at the mouth of a huge cave. A slight grin spread over Shar's face as he glanced back at Tran, who was also smiling. They had found the princess.

The two of them quietly made their way up behind the sentry, which was rather hard because the man was so terribly alert. Shar had heard tales from his cousin Alimash about sneaking up on sleeping sentries and simply knocking them over the head, and wondered why he couldn't have the good fortune of his cousin. Shar finally reached the man, and his sword was raised to knock him unconscious when he heard a shout from inside the cave.

"Raman! Behind you!"

The sentry whirled around, grabbing his sword as he did so.

"Tash!" Shar cursed as he blocked the sentry's blow and glanced back at Tran. "Get the other man!" he cried, deftly ducking one of the Telmarine's blows.

Tran raised his sword and began his fight with the other Telmarine, while Shar finished off his man. When he turned to help Tran, however, the young man shook his head.

"Get the girl! I can handle him!"

Shar quickly turned away and made his way into the cave. It was dark inside, and he started toward a small light in one corner. Unfortunately, a Telmarine found him first.

Shar felt something solid crash into him, hurtling him to the ground and knocking his sword from his hand. Shar's head hit the cave wall behind him, and he almost passed out. He knew he had to get up, to grab his sword and fight, but he couldn't. The Telmarine brought his sword up to the boy's chin and forced him to look up at him. The man was tall, rather fat, and almost handsome. His hair was very black, and his long mustache only made him look more mysterious. He looked like the pirates Shar had seen off the coast of Calormene. By the colorful, exotic clothing that he wore, and by the air of majesty in his presence, Shar knew that he was in the presence of the commander of the Telmarines, maybe even their king.

"So," the man said in a harsh accent, his voice scratchy and angry, "you have come to steal my princess away, have you?"

Shar said nothing, only waiting and hoping that Tran would show up in time.

"Well, my boy," the Telmarine said, moving his sword to Shar's eye level, "the great Carlaak is not so easy to fool!"

The man made a smooth gesture with his hand, bringing the sword down across Shar's cheek, and leaving a long, deep slash across it. Shar winced, biting his lip.

"Aha! So the young warrior is not so brave as he thought!" Carlaak raved, moving his blade to Shar's throat again. His eyes gleamed with a crazed madness, and he stuck the point in ever so slightly. "Fool, now you will-"

Thunk. The hollow sound echoed in the cavern as the Telmarine warrior's eyes closed and he fell to the ground. In his place stood a frightened, young girl with her hands bound in front of her. In her hands was a large rock, which she dropped when Carlaak fell to the ground.

"Are you all right?" she asked, kneeling at his side.

"I think so," Shar replied, getting to his feet and wincing at his throbbing head. "Are you the princess?"

He knew it was a brainless question, but his head hurt terribly.

"I am Araleena," the girl said, her head straightening slightly as she said it. "And who are you?"

"Me, your highness? My name is Shar."

"Thank you for saving me, Shar," Princess Araleena murmured as she touched his wounded cheek softly.

"Saving you, my lady? If I recall correctly, you're the one who saved me!"

Araleena blushed.

"We princesses aren't completely useless," she replied with fire in his eyes.

Shar let out a laugh.

"You sound just like my sister!" he said.

Tran appeared at the mouth of the cave.

"Is she there, Shar?" he asked impatiently.

"Who is that?" Araleena asked.

"That's Tran. He's a friend of mine."

"Shar?"

"Coming, Tran!"

After Tran had been introduced to the princess, he took a closer look at Shar's cheek.

"Ouch!" he said as he examined it. "That must have hurt."

"It's okay," Shar replied. "I'll just have to be careful not to smile."

The three of them made their way down the rocky face of the mountain. Araleena, true to Shar's guess, knew nothing about rock climbing. Shar and Tran took turns carrying her over the rough places. About halfway down, they met their commander and most of their company.

"Uh oh," Tran muttered as the angry commander marched their way. "Got another brilliant plan?"

"I'm thinking," Shar replied.

With every step the commander took, the angrier he looked. Of course, this could have been because he became easier to see with each step, but it was frightening all the same.

"Soldier!" he cried as he approached Shar and Tran.

Commander Clamash was a terror on the battlefield, as one of the Tisroc's best warriors, but he also was a terror to his own men.

"Asharad Tarkaan!" Clamash shouted as he recognized Shar's face. "I should have guessed it was you! Troublemaker."

Clamash stepped toward the princess with a sigh.

"Princess Araleena," he said, bowing gallantly, "I beg you forgive these two scoundrels for being so bold. I will deal with them personally."

Araleena frowned.

"The brave Clamash, I presume?"

Clamash bowed yet again.

"At your service, my lady."

"I am not at all offended by what you call these bold scoundrels. They rescued me from Carlaak the Telmarine, who yet lies in yonder cave. If it please you, sir, do not dishonor them because of me."

Clamash pressed his lips together hard, and stared at the two young men. Then, he turned back to the princess.

"Think on them no more, majesty. Your father is most anxious for your return. Teran," he called. A young officer appeared at his side, "escort the princess to her litter."

The officer nodded to her, and she left Shar's side reluctantly. As they walked off, Araleena glanced over her shoulder at Shar, gracing him with a smile. He nodded back with a small grin. Once the princess was out of sight, Shar stepped forward.

"O my father," he said, as was customary for junior officers to address their seniors, "this was all my doing. I beg that Tran--"

Clamash slapped Shar on the cheek that wasn't wounded. He didn't flinch.

"Silence!" Clamash roared. "Go to your tent. Your discipline will be chosen and administered by your captain. Be gone!"

Shar marched away from Clamash, his head held high even though his heart was burning with resentment at the unfair treatment he had received. Tran followed him, and they both sank down on their mats when they reached their tent.

"Shar," Tran began, "I'm sorry."

Shar sighed, turning to his friend. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry I got you in so much trouble."

"It's okay."

The two sat in silence for a moment. It was then that Shar realized how late it was.

"What time do you suppose it is?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know. Seven?" Tran replied with a yawn.

Shar closed his eyes wearily. His head ached, and his entire body now exploded in agony as he finally felt the result of the day's fighting. Before the world faded into darkness, Shar smiled grimly.

Just another day in the Tisroc's wars.

**A/N: And that ends that chapter. This is just just before the events in HHB. I'm sorry…I know I told you we'd be there by now. Next chapter is right after. No more year skips will occur for the rest of the story. ; )**


	5. Chapter 4: A Spy for Narnia

**--Chapter 4--**

The next morning, Shar opened his eyes and blinked three times at the bright glare of sunlight that pierced the thin walls of his tent. After recovering from the initial shock of the fact that it was late morning already, he glanced over at Tran, who was already sitting on his cot.

"It's about time you woke up!" his friend grumbled, "In case you were wondering, we're stuck in here until Clamash sends for us."

Shar nodded sleepily and yawned.

"I _thought_ he might confine us to quarters!" he said.

Tran glanced over at him, and lay back on his cot.

"So, now that we have all morning, what should we discuss? Should we have a heated debate about logic or something?"

Shar suppressed a grin as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

"If you really want to."

The two young men sat in silence for a moment. Shar stared off into space, and found himself thinking about the princess…what was her name?

"So, Shar," Tran began casually, leaning back on his pillow and closing his eyes.

Something in his voice made Shar stop and look at him. He seemed…nervous.

"What?"

"Have you ever heard of Narnia?"

Shar tried to keep a straight face as he leaned back onto his pillow with both hands behind his head.

"You mean the country up north where you came from?"

It was worth it. Tran's eyes popped open and he jolted upright.

"How did you…I mean, what do you…"

Shar smirked, obviously enjoying his friend's response.

"Look Shar," Tran said, regaining his composure and lowering his voice, "this is serious. You know how the Calormenes are about this. If they found out I was from Narnia…" his voice trailed off as if he didn't even want to mention what might become of him.

"Relax," Shar replied. "I won't tell."

Tran breathed a huge sigh of relief. The two boys sat in silence again for a moment until a young officer pushed the flap of their tent open. Shar and Tran jumped to attention.

"By order of the Tarkaan Chlamash, both of you are to report to the Tarkaan's tent immediately," the officer proclaimed.

Under his breath, he whispered, "Good luck, Shar!"

Shar nodded to him as he and Tran left the tent and made their way to Chlamash. The air in the green mountainous valley was fresh that morning, and the sun, which had not yet gone high in the sky, was warm instead of hot. When they reached the Tarkaan's tent, Shar and Tran exchanged a look.

"Here goes nothing," Shar muttered as he pushed back the flap.

There in the center of the huge tent, Chlamash was sitting in a chair beside a desk. He was not writing, but simply staring down at the paper in his hand. When Shar and Tran entered, he looked up, startled, and then jumped to his feet.

"It's about time you two arrived!" he snapped angrily.

"We came as quickly as we could, sir," Tran apologized.

Chlamash glared at him.

"You weren't quick enough! Well, what are we going to do with you? Let's see…I have you two for disobeying orders, almost ruining the entire mission, and being impudent to a royal princess."

Chlamash walked over to Shar and looked at him hard.

"Do you know that the Tisroc could have your head for being impudent to his daughter?"

"May he live forever," Tran mumbled, earning another glare from Chlamash. The Tarkaan's face turned red.

"Do not correct me!" he shouted, making Tran wince.

Chlamash shook his head wearily as he marched back to his desk.

"Quite frankly, Asharad, I'm ashamed of you. This is exactly the sort of thing someone like him," he gestured to Tran, "might do, but I did think better of the son of a Tarkaan."

"I'm sorry, sir," Shar said, not feeling sorry in the least bit.

"So am I, Asharad. So am I," Chlamash said, shaking his head. "Your punishment is five days suspended from pay, and work duty for that time. I'm letting you off easy this time, boys," he said, shaking a dark finger at them, "Don't mess up again."

With that, Chlamash waved them away. Shar and Tran walked all the way back to their tent before collapsing in laughter on their cots.

"I don't know why I'm laughing!" Tran exclaimed after a moment. "We're in trouble, and we have tons of work for the next few days."

"It was worth it!" Shar replied. "The look on his face when you said 'may he live forever'! Priceless!"

Then the young officer came in again.

"Shar, you and Tran are assigned to work duty for the next five days. I suggest you begin."

"What do we have to do?" Shar asked.

"You can start by carrying water up to the camp. Just dump the buckets in those water barrels over by the trees."

"Thanks!" Tran exclaimed, as the young officer left the tent.

He and Shar got up and grabbed some buckets. Then they began the long walk to the river. After they had walked the trail seven times, Shar thought it was time for a rest. He and Tran sat down among the trees by the river and breathed deeply. Tran sighed.

"This reminds me of Narnia."

Shar was immediately interested.

"Really? Tell me about it."

"It's beautiful. There are trees and almost everything is grass. To the South are the mountains of Archenland, and to the East is the sea. I used to watch the sun rise every morning as it slowly rose over the ocean. It's beautiful."

"I wish I could go there," Shar murmured.

Tran sat up and opened his eyes, which he had shut as he spoke of his homeland.

"Shar...I know you disagree with the Calormene way of doing things."

Shar snorted.

"How did you ever find that out?" he asked sarcastically.

"Look, Shar...I could help you out. I know you hate serving the Tisroc."

"So…?" Shar said as he leaned back against the tree.

Tran sighed and glanced over his shoulder before leaning forward.

"Will you spy for Narnia?"

Shar sat up quickly, staring at Tran in disbelief.

"_What_?"

"Shhh, not so loud!" Tran protested.

Quieter, "You want me to do _what_?"

"Spy for Narnia!"

"Look, Tran," Shar said, stiffening and staring down at the grass around his feet, "even if I did want to help Narnia, I'm stuck in the army for another five years thanks to my father's wonderful influence with Chlamash. It's not like I can just up and leave!"

"You could 'die'," Tran said darkly, staring off into space.

"What?"

"We could fake your death. You hate the Tisroc, don't you?"

Shar sighed, leaning back against the tree again.

"Yeah. But why fake my death? Why couldn't I go on spying as one of the army, as you have been doing?"

Tran contemplated, but then shook his head.

"It would be easier to remain as we are, but haven't you noticed some of the...suspicious glances I've been receiving as of late? Especially from Chlamash himself during Roll Call? He suspects something, and because you and I have already made contact, if they discovered me, you would be the next they would uncover." He met Shar's eyes for the briefest of seconds, but then grinned. "Besides, spies are scarce down here. There's not much we can spy out here on the Western Front. What do the Narnians care of Calormen's quarrel with the Telmarines? We are needed elsewhere."

As Shar considered this carefully, Tran stood and brushed specks of leaves and twigs off his trousers.

"The only problem is your family. If we _do_ fake your death, you won't ever be able to see them again."

Shar let out a bitter laugh.

"My family? My mother is dead, and my stepmother is a witch. My father doesn't care."

Briefly, he thought about Aravis and Didi, but in the rash heat of the moment, filled with hatred of everything else, he decided they could live without him.

"Fine," Shar stated, his heart both flying and quailing at the choice he knew he must make. "I'm on your side."

* * *

Aravis got the news the next afternoon. She was practicing her archery, and trying to hit the target she had put up a week before. So far, she was failing miserably. Finally, an unwelcome visitor to her archery range interrupted her training.

"Aravis!" cried Zamiraleena, now Aravis' stepmother, as she came out of the house, "What _are _you doing?"

Aravis sighed.

"Are you blind, mother of evil?" she muttered, but then, louder, added, "I'm shooting my bow!"

"Put down that awful thing at once! Don't you know that it is unladylike to use such a weapon?"

"Why do you think I do it?" Aravis muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" her stepmother asked, raising her voice and her wicked eyebrows.

"Nothing!"

"Saleena was right! You are the most stubborn, impudent wretch I've ever laid eyes upon!"

Aravis turned to glare at Saleena, her stepmother's slave. The girl evaded her eyes skillfully, but Aravis caught a glimpse of a smug smile before the slave turned away completely.

"Aravis!" came a cry from behind her. Aravis whipped around and saw her little brother Didi running toward her. "Oh Aravis, there's a messenger! Come quick!"

"All right, Didi," Aravis replied crossly, letting him drag her to the front gate where a young messenger boy stood waiting.

"You have a message?" Aravis asked.

"I have a message for Kidrash Tarkaan," the boy replied, looking haughtily at her.

"Give me that, impudent boy!" Zamiraleena ordered, stepping forward. "The Tarkaan, my poor husband, is indisposed at the moment."

Aravis rolled her eyes. Zamiraleena snatched the message from the boy's hand before he could refuse and ripped it open.

"Oh dear," she murmured maliciously, shaking her head and glancing at Aravis. "It seems that the battlefront was too much for your brother."

"What do you mean?" Aravis asked.

"Asharad is dead."

_Dead. _The word echoed in the girl's head until she shook it, refusing to believe the horrible truth.

"You lie!" she cried, grabbing the letter. "By the order of the Tisroc, it is with great reluctance that I must inform the Honorable Kidrash Tarkaan that his son…" she read slowly, her hands shaking. "No!"

Aravis threw the letter to the ground. Didi began to cry and Aravis flew to her room. Shar was dead, and she would never be the same.

* * *

**TBC................**


	6. Chapter 5: The Grand Vizier

**--Chapter 5--**

_Moments after the message that brought the news of Shar's death:_

Zamiraleena made her way to Kidrash's room. Her mind was soaring, glad that one of her husband's children was gone.

"O my husband," she began as she approached him, "news came today of your son."

Kidrash looked up immediately, his face pale.

"Shar? What has he done this time?"

"O my husband," Zamiraleena said softly, "your son is dead."

"Oh no!" Kidrash moaned, putting his head in his hands. "Tash forbid it be so! First Azleen, and now her son?"

"Hush, my husband," the Tarkheena comforted, "he was disloyal to you. Has not one of the poets said that 'the death of their rebellious is their just reward'?"

"So be it," Kidrash mumbled. "The gods know best."

"And now, my husband," Zamiraleena said, her fingers crossed for luck, "you must think of your daughter."

"Aravis?"

"Yes. She does not belong here, husband. Why, at her age," the lady said, as if thinking of it for the first time, "she ought to be married and gone!"

"Oh, but Mira…" Kidrash protested weakly, as the fond face of his daughter appeared in his mind's eye. How could he bear to lose another child, so soon after the first?

"No, husband. She must go."

"But who will have her?" Kidrash asked, looking down, defeated. "She is so stubborn!"

"Do you know of Ahoshta Tarkaan?" Zamiraleena purred, smiling to herself at the brilliance of her scheme. Connections to power for herself, and revenge against that brat of Kidrash's...could things get any better?

Kidrash frowned.

"I recall a man by that name. He is almost certain to become grand vizier after Axartha."

"Give Aravis to him!" Zamiraleena suggested.

"Oh no, Mira! The man is five times as old as Aravis…"

"And five times wealthier than you! And five times more popular with the people," his wife pressed. "You do want to do well for your daughter, or have I so misjudged my husband?"

Kidrash sighed. He hesitated for one, long moment before he replied.

"So be it. Send word to Ahoshta. If he agrees to the match, they shall be wed this very summer!"

* * *

_The next day at Ahoshta's palace at Ilkeen_:

The great Ahoshta Tarkaan sat on a throne in his dining room. He was old by Calormene standards; about sixty, and even though he tried to hide it, his back had a huge hump on it. Shar wrinkled his nose as he stood next to the other servants waiting to serve the great Ahoshta. Tran poked him.

"Quit fidgeting or you'll give us away!" he muttered. "The face powder and makeup will make you less recognizable, but if you draw too much attention—"

"I know, I know!" Shar hissed back, "If I draw too much attention they'll find us out and we're little more than dead men! This powder makes my nose itch!"

Shar was now a spy for Narnia. It had only been a few days since his 'death', and he rather enjoyed the freedom that came with being 'dead'. Now, however, he was disguised as a servant to Ahoshta. That was his new mission: to watch Ahoshta, the next Grand Vizier, for any signs of hostility toward Narnia or Archenland. Of course, Shar could have stayed in the Calormene army and spy for Narnia there, but he was too well known, too…popular. If he was found giving secrets to the enemy, his family would suffer. He couldn't do that to Aravis. After faking his death with Tran, he'd realized how calloused he'd become after three years of war. He had thought it would be easy to forget about Aravis and Didi, to live anew as a Narnian, but it wasn't.

It hadn't been easy to leave his Calormene heritage behind, but Shar knew, as he always knew afterward, that he had done the right thing. Narnia was where his allegiance belonged. He had been in Ahoshta's house only since that morning, and he was still getting used to being treated as a servant.

"Bring me food!" Ahoshta cried, his voice higher than Shar would have expected. Tran poked him in the back, and Shar realized that it was his turn to step forward. Now was the test. Shar stepped forward with a large basket of bread in his arms. Ahoshta looked into his face, squinting like a monkey. Then, the soon-to-be Grand Vizier pulled a small honey loaf from the basket and munched on it solemnly. Shar held back a laugh, thinking of how much the old man resembled the old ape in the animal gardens in Calavar. His service done for the moment, Shar stepped back into the long line of servants.

Halfway through the meal, a messenger arrived from the province of Calavar in Southern Calormen. The young messenger boy stepped forward, and read the letter aloud.

"To Ahoshta Tarkaan, most favored of all the Tisroc's viziers:

Greeting to you! I am Kidrash Tarkaan, the lord over the province of

Calavar. If it please you, I offer the hand of my daughter, Aravis, in marriage

To you, in hopes that you will accept, wed, and know joy.

Your humble servant,

Kidrash Tarkaan of Calavar."

Shar's mouth went dry, and he almost dropped the basket.

"Not _Aravis_," he murmured. "Father must be _mad_!"

"Hmm...Aravis Tarkeena, eh?" mused Ahoshta, looking over the message. "Is she...well favored? Fair of face?"

"Very, Excellency," an advisor spoke up. "And, her father is very wealthy and has some influence with the Tisroc. Through this marriage, much favor is to be gained."

_Please turn him down, please turn him down,_ Shar begged silently.

Ahoshta thought about it for a moment, and then squeaked, "Why not? I can always remarry if I don't like her. Send the necessary replies to her father. We shall marry this very year!"

Shar's blood ran cold. His sister deserved better than this…ape. Besides, Aravis was much to young to be married. Wasn't she? When his work was done, Shar stormed out of the gaudy palace, too angry to hear Tran's pleas behind him.

"Shar!"

"What?" Shar turned, his eyes burning with hate.

"You can't go!"

"I have to! She can't marry that…that…" Shar waved his hands in the air, "that creature!"

"Shar, what does she matter to you? Was she your betrothed? Your lover?"

"No!" Shar exploded. "She's my sister!"

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence.

"I've got to warn her," Shar insisted.

"No you don't. Your father will tell her. If she doesn't want to marry him, she can just say no."

"But she can't!" Shar sighed at the ignorance of his friend. "Kidrash can make her marry Ahoshta unless…" he snapped his fingers, "unless she runs away!"

"You have to stay here, Shar," Tran said. "Narnia needs you."

Shar stared down at the setting sun in the southwestern sky with a deep sigh. His home was in that direction.

"Plus," Tran added, "they all think you're dead."

Shar closed his eyes.

"All right," he said wearily, "I'll stay."

However, as he turned back toward Ahosta's palace, there was malice in his gaze.

"I pray the gods give Aravis the good sense to flee before she ends up with an ape for a husband."

* * *

**TBC................**


	7. Chapter 6: A Talking Horse?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: Please comment on this chapter. Okay, we're into the HHB. I got the plot line from chapter 3 of HHB, when Aravis is telling her story. Of course, since she's a Calormene, I thought, she's bound to fancy it up a bit. **

_Three days later…_

"Oh Aravis!" called Zamiraleena Tarkeena, waving across the pond at the girl. "I have wonderful news for you!"

Aravis approached her stepmother warily. She sounded happy, and that usually meant trouble.

"What is it?"

"You are marrying Ahoshta Tarkaan this summer!" Zamiraleena replied, an unladylike sneer on her face.

Aravis went pale.

"Ahoshta?" she asked weakly.

"By summer, he'll be 'Oh my husband' to you. You'd better start practicing, dear," Zamiraleena taunted.

Aravis turned red, and slung the bucket at her stepmother. The frog she had just caught flew onto the smirking Tarkeena, who rewarded Aravis with a loud, shrill scream. Then, Aravis ran to find her father.

"Father," she panted as she found him in his room, "Father, she's lying…isn't she?"

Kidrash looked up wearily at his daughter.

"No, Aravis," he said, shaking his head. "You and Ahoshta Tarkaan are now legally engaged."

Aravis' heart almost stopped beating. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, though she wanted to do both.

"How could you do this to me?" she asked her father in a low angry voice.

She turned and fled to her room. There, she collapsed on her bed and screamed long and hard into the fluffy blue pillows. She grabbed one and threw it across the room. Then, she began to cry. Long heart wrenching sobs finally broke loose as she cried, not only for the cruelty of her stepmother and father, but mostly for the death her brother, the only one who really loved her, and the fact that Ahoshta Tarkaan had even been born in the first place.

She didn't come out of her room for lunch or dinner, and locked her door so that not even Didi could come in. The next morning, after a fitful night's sleep, she got up and slipped out of her room and headed to the stable. Quietly, she saddled her mare, Hwin. Hwin had been her gift from her father on her eleventh birthday.

"Aravis?" Didi met her in the courtyard. "Where are you going?"

He looked up at her belt and saw Shar's jeweled dagger strapped to it. Aravis ruffled his hair gently.

"I'm just going out for a while, okay. Don't tell Father."

"I won't," Didi promised.

He stood and watched her as she mounted her mare, biting his lip in thought. When she looked down at him for the last time, she struggled to hold back her tears.

_I'll probably never see him again_, she thought regretfully.

"Goodbye, Aravis," Didi said, silently begging that she wouldn't do anything dreadful. "Be careful."

"I will, Didi," his sister promised.

Once Aravis was well into the woods, she guided Hwin into a secluded clearing in the deepest part of the forest. Once there, she dismounted and kneeled in the center of the glade. She drew her dagger, and slid it along her finger. It was razor sharp, cutting a thin line in her finger tip.

"Azaroth," she murmured, "goddess of death, let the first thing I see in the afterlife be the face of my older brother!"

Aravis closed her eyes and clenched her teeth and drew in a deep breath as she prepared to stab herself with the dagger of her brother. But just as she put the knife up to her chest, the mare moved forward and said, "Stop at once, Aravis! You cannot kill yourself, what good would it do you?"

Aravis' eyes popped open.

"Did I…did you…" she stammered, staring at Hwin strangely. Then she shook her head.

"No!" she cried. "I am of noble blood! I do not fear death, so why am I imagining things?"

She raised her dagger once more, but Hwin stepped forward quickly, placing her head in the way.

"You are not imagining things, Aravis. I can speak just as well as you can. If you don't put down that dagger right this instant--"

Aravis cut her mare off with a gasp as the dagger fell from her hand.

"You can talk!" she murmured. "Where in Calormene did you learn to speak?"

The mare whinnied softly in amusement, bringing her head back up, saying, "I didn't learn it in Calormene, my dear. Many horses can speak in Narnia."

"Narnia?" Aravis asked, feeling a chill go up her spine. "Isn't that where all the demons live? I heard it was a land of ice!"

"Oh it's not, dear. I heard it used to be, but not anymore."

Carefully, Hwin described the land of Narnia to Aravis. The mare artfully told of the beautiful mountains, green valleys, and refreshing waterfalls. Soon, Aravis was longing to be in that marvelous land.

"And best of all," Hwin concluded, "no one is forced to marry against her will."

"Oh I wish I could go there!" Aravis cried, closing her eyes and imagining a land where she wouldn't have to worry about Ahoshta.

"You could run away with me," Hwin neighed.

Aravis looked up.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked in surprise. "After all we Calormenes have done to you, you'd help me get away?"

"Of course I would!" Hwin whinnied happily. "You're not like the other humans."

Aravis thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. It wasn't really much of a choice to make. If she stayed, she would marry Ahoshta. If she went to Narnia…she would have a chance to begin again. There was just one thing…

"Hwin," Aravis said suddenly, "would the Narnians accept me? I mean, how would they feel about a Calormene coming in and living there?"

"I'm quite sure that they wouldn't mind a bit!" Hwin replied.

Aravis sighed in relief. It was then that she heard the sound of hoof beats. Quickly, she snatched up her knife and tucked it back into its sheath. She was just in time, too, for just then, her father rode round the corner on his war horse, Zamiraleena reclining in a litter behind him, carried by six slaves.

"Aravis, what in Calormene are you doing out here so late?" her father asked.

"How did you know I was out here?" Aravis wondered.

"Stubborn child," Zamiraleena shrieked, glaring at the girl, "answer your father's question."

Aravis glared back, and then said, "I just wanted to be alone for a little while."

"You were alone for a whole day," her stepmother remarked scornfully. "Imagine being angry at being married to Ahoshta!"

Aravis almost shot back a burning reply, but then she stopped as a plan of escape began to form in her mind.

"Angry?" she asked in faked bewilderment. "Why should I be angry at marrying Ahoshta?"

Her stepmother froze, staring at Aravis with a look of disbelief and wariness.

"As a matter of fact," Aravis continued, "I am very excited about marrying him. Imagine my being the wife of the grand vizier!"

The Tarkeena's mouth dropped open, and Aravis bit her lip for fear she would laugh at her stepmother's reaction.

"I am glad, daughter," Kidrash remarked, "that you feel so. Indeed, my wife and I were worried about you."

"There is nothing to worry about!" Aravis said. "I am grateful to you, O my Father, for arranging the marriage."

Kidrash nodded, and then gestered to her horse.

"Come, daughter. We must go home. It's getting late, and only Tash knows what sorts of wild creatures lay in wait for us."

"Yes my father," Aravis replied, swinging up on Hwin, and drawing a gasp from her stepmother.

"Ladies should not ride astride!" Zamiraleena remarked reprovingly.

Aravis almost rolled her eyes again. Once she was in Narnia, she would never have to worry about behaving like a lady ever again.

When she got home, Aravis stretched out on her bed and began to work on her plan. First, she decided, she needed to completely fool her father. She dressed in her brightest dress (a gaudy thing, all pink and purple) bought for her by her stepmother, and draped herself with necklaces and jewels. Then, she found her way to the dinner table, loaded with cakes and meats from the last hunt. Didi gave her a strange look as he took in her appearance. He, as well as every other person in the household knew that Aravis never wore pink.

"Well, my daughter," Kidrash said in approval as she took her place by his left side as the oldest, "that color becomes you."

"Thank you, Father," Aravis replied, batting her eyes at him sweetly.

Didi choked on his cake, and coughed loudly. Zamiraleena frowned at him.

"What's wrong, Rishdi?" she asked him, drawing a glare from the boy. He hated being called by his grandfather's name.

"Are you okay, Aravis?" Didi asked in bewilderment.

"Of course, my brother," she replied.

"Um, do you want something, daughter?" Kidrash asked, a bit confused himself.

"Oh, I'm so happy to be marrying Ahoshta, Father," Aravis began in a singsong voice, "but…"

"Yes, go on, my dear," Kidrash said, picking at a piece of pie with his fork.

"Could I, perhaps, go out into the woods tomorrow. You know how, under the law of Tash, a maiden must perform the rights to Zardeena…"

"Of course, my dear," Kidrash said. "Whatever you need, take it."

"Thank you," Aravis said under her breath.

She left the room, saying, "I must prepare! It takes three days to complete the ceremonies. I shall leave in the morning!"

"As you wish, daughter," Kidrash replied as she walked out the doorway.

"Wait!" Zamiraleena cried, stopping Aravis in her tracks.

The girl turned around, and saw her stepmother glaring at her with suspicious eyes.

"Oh my husband," she continued, still watching Aravis, "your daughter should not venture out alone. She will need assistance in these…ceremonies. She must take a servant with her."

"If you say so, my wife," Kidrash mumbled.

"Which one?" Aravis asked, her mind spinning; this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Oh Saleena!" Zamiraleena cried, an evil smile spreading across her face.

When the servant girl appeared, Aravis had to bite her lip to keep herself from saying something that would give her away. Saleena was the servant girl that Zamiraleena had specifically assigned to her, to spy on her, Aravis guessed.

"But Father," Aravis protested, "I must go alone!"

"Nonsense," her stepmother replied, turning to Kidrash. "I took a servant girl with me. And besides, Aravis darling," she said 'darling' with such a sarcastic tone that even Didi winced, "you really should have someone to protect you."

Aravis looked skeptically at the thin servant girl, and sighed. There was no way of getting out of it now. Her stepmother had spoken.

"I must go prepare," she muttered, backing out of the room.

Her father nodded, and Aravis was able to retain her composure until she reached her room.

"What am I going to do?" she moaned, flopping down on her bed.

Disgustedly, she looked down at the pink dress. She would have to wear it a bit longer, unfortunately, for her father to be truly convinced.

"I'll just…" Aravis froze, glancing over at her closet.

The jeweled dagger still hung on her belt, draped over the closet door, and then, she knew.

"Shar!" she cried, jumping up and rushing to it. "I knew your sleeping powder would come in handy!"

She reached in the bottom of the sheath of the dagger where she had stowed the packet of powder, and when she found it, gazed at it in triumph.

"Saleena," she said under her breath, "you have finally met your match."

Moments later, she made her way to the room of her father's old secretary, and her brother, Shar's old tutor.

"Yazhan?" she asked as she peeked into the old man's room.

"Ah, my lady," Yazhan muttered, swinging the door open for her. "How may I be of service to you?"

"I…I need you to write a letter for me."

Yazhan's eyes opened wide.

"A letter?" he asked suspiciously. "What kind of letter?"

Aravis sighed, gesturing him to be quiet.

"A letter to my father."

"But Princess," he said, as he always addressed her, "can you not write him a letter yourself?"

"I need it to be from Ahoshta Tarkaan," she said.

Yazhan gasped.

"From Ahoshta?"

"Yes. I'm running away," Aravis explained.

"Oh no, Princess," Yazhan protested, standing up. "I could not do such a thing! Your father would kill me if he found out…"

"He won't!" Aravis promised. "Please?"

Yazhan studied her for a moment, and then sighed.

"You look so much like your brother when he was your age. You have the same dark eyes."

Aravis waited.

Finally, Yazhan sighed.

"Of course, I'll do it, Princess."

"Oh thank you!" the girl cried, jumping up and hugging him.

"Now, what do you want the letter to be about?" Yazhan asked.

"Well…make it from Ahoshta, and say that he saw me in the woods…" Aravis said, thinking hard. "Oh bother! Why don't you just write it. Will you bring it to my room later?"

"Of course, Princess," Yazhan said. "To hear is to obey."

**A/N: Once again, please comment. In the next chapter, we will see Aravis' escape, and maybe even when she meets a certain horse and his boy…**


	8. Chapter 7: Escape

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: Still taking stuff from chapter 3 of the Horse and his Boy, but I'm not telling it exactly as Aravis did. As a Calormene storyteller, it was inevitable that she would spice things up a bit, so I told them a little differently. Hope you don't mind too much…just a few quotes from the books to remind you.**

**"And what happened to the girl—the one you drugged?" asked Shasta.**

**"Doubtless she was beaten for sleeping late," said Aravis coolly, "But she was a tool and spy of my stepmother's. I am very glad they should beat her."**

**-The Horse and His Boy, Chapter 3**

"**The scratches on your back, tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your stepmother's slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her. You needed to know what it felt like." (Aslan)**

"**Will any more harm come to her by what I did?" (Aravis)**

"**Child," said the Lion, "I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own."**

**-The Horse and His Boy, Chapter 14**

**Luckily, Aslan didn't tell us we couldn't **_**make up**_** stories about what might have happened to Aravis' stepmother's slave (thank goodness!). Please R&R!**

_The next day…_

"Lady Aravis?" Saleena, servant girl to Zamiraleena, called as she knocked loudly on the door, "you wanted to see me?"

Aravis hastily tore open the packet from Shar and dumped the entire contents into a cup of wine, taking care to remember which cup she had poured it in.

"Saleena," she said, crumpling the empty wrapper as the door swung open, "you're just in time."

The servant girl entered and glanced over at the wine cups.

"My lady?" she asked, bowing her head and curtseying in the Calormene fashion.

"Yes…I suppose you know," Aravis said, crossing the room to look out her window, "that you are to accompany me on my…errand tomorrow."

"Yes, my lady."

"Saleena," Aravis continued, leaning forward as if trusting the girl with a great secret, "you must wake me early tomorrow so that we may begin as soon as possible."

She gazed up at the ceiling and sighed in false contentment.

"As soon as these sacrifices to Zardeenah are complete, I may marry my Ahoshta and be happy."

"Of course, my lady," Saleena said, a slight tone of suspicion entering her words.

"Good!" Aravis said happily. "That's settled. And now, we shall feast!"

"Feast, my lady?" Saleena asked in confusion.

"Yes!" Aravis looked at Saleena, first in scorn, but then in compassion, both faked. "Don't they teach you servants anything? When sacrificing, we can neither eat nor drink for three days! Here," she said, handing the drugged wine glass to Saleena, "we will both drink and eat so we may be ready to pray."

"Of course, Lady Aravis," Saleena murmured, waiting to take a drink until Aravis also had lifted her cup to her lips.

Then, the servant girl drank a bit of the wine, just a sip. She knew how mischievous Aravis' brother had been, and wondered, perhaps, if the wine would be sour, or spoiled. To her surprise, it was neither. The wine was sweet and merry, and Saleena took another drink, this time longer than the first.

"This is good wine," she murmured, her eyelids drooping already.

Aravis' eyes widened.

"You should go to bed," she said gently. "Wake me tomorrow."

"Of course, my lady," the girl said, stumbling out the door and toward the servant's quarters.

_Thank you Shar, _Aravis thought. _One last thing to do._

She gazed around her room, taking in the three windows and the wardrobe in the corner. The green and blue curtains on the windows gave them the appearance of a forest. Aravis' eyes filled with tears. This had been her room since age four, when she had grown out of pink. How could she leave it? Then, she bit her lip in self-admonishment; she was going to do this.

Aravis moved across the room and pulled off her dressing gown to reveal a dark green suit, somewhat too large for her. She twisted her hair into a quick braid, and then gathered her belongings. She searched through her closet, and looked past dozens of purses and bags, all pink and purple and bright blue, to find a simple satchel of dark brown. In this, she placed her most costly jewels, all the money that she had (which was not much), and Shar's dagger.

Then, she gazed over the table in her room, filled with the 'feast' that her father's slaves had prepared. Carefully, she selected as many loaves of bread as would fit into the satchel, and used a thick napkin to wrap several slices of meat. Then, she glanced at her closet again. Shar's armor, her most valued possession, she had already smuggled into the stable.

Then, very quietly, for it was now the second watch of the night, Aravis crept into the stable. Hwin offered a slight whinny as a greeting, but stopped when Aravis put her finger on her lips. Aravis saddled her mare quickly, and then looked over at the bundle that was still hidden in a mound of hay. As quietly as she could, Aravis donned Shar's armor which the Calormen captain had brought home after the news of his death. Then, she led Hwin out of the stable though a side door and into the woods.

The night was still young, and the air which blew across Aravis' face was cool and fresh and exciting. Quickly, Aravis swung up on Hwin, a task that was not so easy wearing Shar's armor, and then grabbed the reins tightly in her right hand.

"Which way shall we go?" Hwin asked.

Aravis swiveled in the saddle.

"Um…north is _that_ way," she decided, pointing into the woods. "For Narnia," she whispered, to which Hwin neighed, "For Narnia!"

Then, Hwin shook her delicate head, and the horse and her girl thundered off into the darkness.

"Saleena!"

The servant girl stirred in her bed as she heard the sound of breaking glass.

"Saleena! Why are you still here?"

"What?" Saleena sat up and stared into the face of Zamiraleena Tarkeena, which was both shocked and angry.

"You wicked slave!" the woman cried, grabbing the girl's wrist. "Now the daughter of my husband is gone on her own! You were my spy to watch her and now," the lady brought her sneering face very close to Saleena's frightened one, "you have failed."

"My lady, I…"

"Don't make excuses to me, slave. Rapheth!" she screamed over her shoulder as a young man rushed into the room, "Take her to the manager of the servants. Tell him that she is to be flogged."

"To hear is to obey," Rapheth bowed, backing out of the room.

Zamiraleena jerked the girl out of her bed and practically threw her at the man.

"Ten lashes!" she screeched as the two escaped down the hall, "and make them excruciatingly painful!"

Moments later, the two servants arrived at the manager's door.

"Enter!" he called when he heard the knock.

Rapheth entered, bowing obediently and dragging Saleena with him.

"My master," he said, thrusting the girl forward, "this girl is to be punished with ten lashes."

The manager frowned.

"Under whose orders have you come?" he asked, glancing down at the weeping servant girl.

"Under the order of the Master's wife, O my Master," the young man said.

Tazroth, the manager, shook his head.

"Girl," he sympathized, "you are the third today. Bring her, boy."

"To hear is to obey, my master," Rapheth said, dragging Saleena behind the manager.

Yazhan, secretary of Kidrash, let out a huge sigh as he marched the grounds of the house. Indeed, he couldn't bear to think of what he had done; how could he have written that letter for Aravis so that she could run away? He had failed his master. A sob of agony brought his musing head up, and he looked around to find the source of the noise. After much searching, he found it. Behind a bush in the courtyard, a young girl, about Aravis' age, was weeping bitterly. When he got closer, Yazhan could see why: her back was covered in bloody stripes. Her tunic of white, which all servants wore, was now the color of blood.

"My daughter," he said, dropping to one knee and calling her 'daughter' only because he was so old, "why do you weep so bitterly."

"O my father," she sobbed, using the term 'father' because it seemed to fit at that moment, "I have been punished for a crime I did not do!"

The moment he saw her face, Yazhan let out a gasp. It was Saleena, the servant girl to Aravis' stepmother. Everyone knew her as a spy for Zamiraleena, but that did not stop Yazhan.

"Be calm, my daughter," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Come with me to the healers, and you shall feel well again."

"No!" Saleena cried, sitting up straight. "I cannot!"

She stood quickly, but swayed on her feet.

"You must," Yazhan insisted, "you are not well."

Saleena shook her head, and staggered away. Yazhan did not follow her. He simply stood in the courtyard and watched her leave, shaking his head sadly.

As soon as Saleena was out of sight, she leaned against a wall for a rest, and glanced around. She couldn't stay; she knew that now. Not only was she hated by all the other servants as a spy, but now even Zamiraleena hated her. There was only one thing to do. She had to leave. She crept into the kitchen and stared longingly at the fresh loaves of bread that lay on the table. Her stomach rumbled, and she swayed on her feet.

"Here," a voice from behind her piped up.

Someone pushed a chair behind her, and she collapsed into it in relief. Then, someone thrust a warm loaf of bread in her hands. Saleena couldn't believe it. She glanced up at the giver of the gift, and almost sank to the ground, not from weariness, but from habit. It was Rishdi, the master's son.

"My lord," she murmured, kneeling on the hard ground.

"No! Don't," the boy cried, helping her back up to the chair. "It's all right."

She looked up at him, and almost smiled. She couldn't help it. His curly hair was dark, and was rumpled charmingly. His bright blue eyes stared at her in concern, and all of his nine year old being radiated love and hope.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, breaking the spell he had woven.

"No, my master," she replied, dropping her eyes.

"Don't!" the boy insisted. "You can call me Didi."

"Didi," Saleena repeated, liking the sound of the name.

"Look," Didi said, glancing over his shoulder, "are you trying to run away?"

Saleena's eyes widened in shock and surprise, and she could only nod, not daring to lie to the boy.

"I want to help you. Come with me," Didi said, standing and walking toward the kitchen door.

"Where are you going, Master Didi?" the cook asked, a kindly old woman, rather on the fat side.

"Just out into the woods, Mistress Yazleen," the boy replied with a wink. "May I have a loaf of that wonderful bread?"

"Of course, child," the cook said, with a smile, handing him a loaf. "Now don't you wander off!"

"I won't," he promised, gesturing to Saleena to follow him.

Once in the woods, Didi pressed the loaf into her hands.

"Here," he said, handing her a little purse, "I'm sorry for what Aravis did."

"How did you…"

"I know lots of things," Didi replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "You'd better go. I hope you get away safely."

"Thank you, Didi," Saleena murmured softly. "I'll never forget this."

"Goodbye, Saleena," he replied, turning back toward the house.

Once Saleena was sure that Didi had gone back inside, she turned and started to run.

**A/N: And that's that. Next, we follow Aravis and Hwin until they meet Shasta and Bree… (by the way, my spell check just rejected the name 'Bree'. What's wrong with these computers?)**


	9. Chapter 8: Azim Balda

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: I apologize for posting the wrong chapter here. As I'm re-writing this fic (talk about a lot of work...) this will doubtless be revised and reposted yet again very soon. However I feel it is my duty to go ahead and put it back as it was.**

**Chapter 8**

Through the next few days and nights, Hwin and Aravis thundered across Calormen, keeping in mind that Aravis had only three days before her father would suspect that she was missing. On the third day, Aravis rode into the city of Azim Balda, the city of the crossing of many roads. As she rode up, Aravis hesitated, and then called for Hwin to halt. As she gazed down into the city, Aravis drew in a deep breath and clenched her teeth. After this, there was no going back.

"Aravis? Are you all right?" Hwin asked, ever so slightly concerned.

"Yes…I'm fine," the girl replied. "Let's go."

Together, Aravis and Hwin entered the city. All around Aravis, unfamiliar faces swam in a crowd. Aravis dismounted and led Hwin over to the House of Imperial Posts. Aravis had been to Azim Balda once before with her father, and it wasn't a pleasant memory. In an alleyway, a thief had held a knife to her throat, forcing her father to hand over his money. Aravis shivered as she remembered the cold blade against her neck. Then, she shook her head and stepped into the large, ornate building.

Inside, the building was a man, sitting at a desk. His skin, like all Calormen's, was dark, and his body was shaped rather like a pole, thin and wiry. He did not look up when she entered.

"Ahem," Aravis cleared her throat.

The man looked up.

"Well?" he said impatiently.

Aravis stepped forward, drawing forth the letter from her pocket.

"I have a message to send."

The man raised his eyebrows suspiciously as he looked her over. A girl sending a message? It was not unheard of, but extremely rare to see a girl in the House of Imperial Posts.

"I wish to have it sent to Kidrash Tarkaan in Calavar," Aravis said, handing the letter to the man.

"Have you payment?" he asked.

Aravis reached into her pocket and fished out five crescents.

"Will this be enough?" she asked, slapping them down on the desk.

The man picked them up and looked them over to make sure they were real.

"Yes, this will suffice," he replied, palming the coins. "The letter shall be in Calavar this evening. May I ask who is sending this letter?"

Aravis blinked. She thought for a moment, and then said, "The letter is from Ahoshta Tarkaan."

The man looked up at her.

"Are you a servant of his?" he asked suspiciously.

"No," she said, looking offended, "He is my uncle. This letter is of the utmost importance. Please see that it makes it there today."

"To hear is to obey," the man said, looking back down at his work.

Aravis turned and left.

Once outside, she made her way to Hwin and led her away.

"That takes care of our business here," she whispered, and Hwin whinnied back quietly.

"Good," the horse murmured, "this city makes me nervous."

Aravis turned down a less crowded street and replied, "Don't worry. Another minute and we'll be out of this place and back in the country."

But then, something happened that neither the girl, nor the mare had expected or wished to happen.

"Girl!" whispered a voice from a nearby alley, "take one more step, and thou art dead!"

----

"Tran, are you sure about this?"

Shar's mind raced as he looked down on Azim Balda from on top of a small mansion in the south part of town. Shar didn't like Azim Balda. For one thing, it had a funny name, and for another, it was full of thieves and bandits. But he was there with Tran, hopefully doing the land of Narnia some good by spying on Ahoshta, who had just been proclaimed Grand Vizier. Axartha, the old Vizier, was dead, and the Tisroc had informed Ahoshta of his new position immediately.

"Be quiet, Shar," Tran shot back. "You'll give us away!"

Shar let out a long sigh and leaned as far away from the edge of the roof as he could. He hated heights. And he was coming to hate Ahoshta. They had trailed the man and stuck to him like glue, but they still hadn't gotten any information that might be useful to the Narnians or Archenlanders. As Shar waited, his back pressed up against a sort of tower in the roof, he looked down across the city. In the street, he saw a girl carrying a basket on her head. In another, a Tarkaan with a crimson beard rode down the street. Then, something caught Shar's eye.

In an alleyway just to Shar's right, a young girl stepped slowly into an alleyway. She was leading a horse, and deeper in the alley, Shar's sharp eyes caught the glint of a knife. Shar jumped to his feet and glanced over at Tran. The other boy was busy staring down through a window. Shar stepped forward, and Tran turned to look at him.

"Where you going?" asked Tran.

"I'll be back in a minute," Shar replied.

Tran shrugged, and Shar jumped across from the roof he was on to the next one. He moved closer, hoping to catch some of the conversation.

"Listen to me, girl," the voice said, "step back into the shadows."

"Who are you?" the girl asked uncertainly.

Shar almost gasped. The girl was Aravis. Of that he was sure!

"I am a man in need," the thief replied. "In need of your assistance."

Aravis stepped forward, not able to believe her ears.

"In need of assistance? What do you mean?"

"You see, girl," the voice continued, "I am a very poor man."

Aravis drew back.

"You're a thief! I should have known."

"And I'm sure, as a rich, kind lady, you would not mind giving me, a poor man, a few crescents, eh?"

Aravis shook her head.

"I have no money," she replied fearfully.

"You lie!" the man's voice cried.

He stepped forward, and in one swift movement had the girl's arm behind her back, the dagger he held in his right hand to her throat.

"Now give me your money," he said, "before I take it from your dead body!"

Aravis paused, not knowing what to do. She struggled against his hold, but it was no use. Then, she heard a whistling sound, and then a distinct thud. The man's grip on her arm loosened quite a bit, and she wrenched herself away. Then, she whirled around, drawing her own dagger from its sheath. But it wasn't needed. The man was laying face downward on the ground, another knife sticking out from between his shoulder blades. Aravis shivered and glanced around, wondering if this man's killer would come after her next. Then, she turned and ran. _Surely_, she thought_, I have some __**guardian **__watching after me. _

She grabbed Hwin's halter, and mounted the mare. Then, without one look back, she rode rapidly down the street and out of Azim Balda. If Aravis had looked back, she might have seen a slim form jump down from the roof of a building nearby and retrieve his dagger from the bandit's body.

"Meddle with my sister," he murmured angrily, "and you'll taste my steel."

Then, he climbed back up onto the roof and to his post spying on Ahoshta, and Aravis and Hwin thundered away, not once looking back toward that dreadful city.

_**To be continued....**_


	10. Chapter 9: The Horse and Her Girl

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. **

**A/N: Hello, Narnia readers! I love Love LOVE getting your reviews, so please comment even if you just say hello. ;) Virtually all of this is taken from chapter 2 HHB. I just made it Aravis POV. Enjoy!**

Through the next day, Aravis and Hwin put lots of ground between them and Azim Balda, hoping to be beyond Tashbaan before Kidrash Tarkaan should discover their plot to escape.

That day, they rode many miles, and then, at about four in the afternoon, the two travelers decided to rest in the forest. At seven that evening, just as the sun disappeared behind the hills, Aravis felt someone poking her in the side.

"Oh…do let me sleep a little longer," she moaned.

Hwin let out a soft whinny and nudged her again.

"Come on, Aravis, we must be moving on," the mare murmured.

Aravis jumped to her feet.

"Oh Hwin," she cried, "I forgot! We must be off at once!"

She saddled Hwin, and then climbed onto her mare. They at once began traveling northeast once more. About an hour later, when it was quite dark out and the moon was out, Hwin and Aravis found themselves on the edge of the forest, looking out into some sand hills.

"Oh, this won't do at all!" Aravis moaned. "We've come too far east."

"It's not that bad, dear," Hwin replied. "See, we can just follow the sea in the edge of the forest!"

"All right," Aravis agreed.

It was then that they heard the hoof beats.

Not too far off, on Aravis' right, she saw a dark figure moving stealthily toward the sand dunes. Even from this distance, she could see that the figure was a war horse, and on its back sat a man, not too tall, but a man nonetheless.

"Oh Hwin!" she murmured, "What shall we do? What if we're caught?"

"We'll stay in the forest, Aravis," Hwin replied. "And you still have your sword!"

"But I'm no match for a real Tarkaan," Aravis replied with a groan.

She tucked her hair back, and prayed to Tash that, if he saw her, the Tarkaan might think her a boy.

"Let's go," she said.

Hwin started off slowly, and as they continued forward, Aravis was relieved to see that the other Horse was now walking close to the water's edge, not at all interested in them. Then, Aravis heard a large roar from behind them and to their left. Hwin jumped into a fast canter, and moved to the right.

Aravis looked over her shoulder and saw the source of the roar. She knew the creature at first glance, having seen one in the zoo at Tashbaan before. It was a lion, bigger than she had ever dreamed a lion could be. It was darting in and out of the trees, right on Hwin's left flank, and then back in the woods.

Almost forgetting the danger of the Tarkaan on her right, Aravis pulled on her right rein, guiding Hwin toward the other rider and horse. She heard a roar on the other side of the other horse, and gasped to Hwin, "There must be two lions!"

"Shall I move closer? That Tarkaan might be better at swordplay than you!"

"No!" Aravis cried.

If she was caught, she would have to marry Ahoshta, and that was a fate worse than death by lions.

"Move away from them!"

Hwin did so, and swerved back to her left. Aravis watched the other horse, which oddly enough moved further to his right. The distance between them grew, but then the lion on Aravis' left roared again.

"Move back!" she cried to Hwin.

Then, they both saw something. It was long, and flat, and silvery blue. It was the sea. Hwin splashed into it, still at a canter, and Aravis almost collapsed in relief. She knew, as well as any other Calormen knew, that lions hate the water. After a few moments of walking in the water, Hwin sighed, and without thinking of the danger, she said, "Oh, I _am_ so tired!"

Aravis' eyes widened. Before she knew what she was doing, she hissed, "Hold your tongue, Hwin, and don't be a fool!"

Then she bit her lip. They were in for it now! Hwin splashed forward in the salt water until her feet landed on stones and solid ground. The Tarkaan hadn't spoken yet, and Aravis dared to wish that he wouldn't.

_Maybe, _she thought_, he'll let me go!_ Hwin stepped forward onto the land, and Aravis urged her onward.

_Go! _she thought_, before he stops us! _However, the Tarkaan moved his horse between them and escape.

"Broo-hoo-hah!" the horse snorted, "Steady there! I _heard_ you, I did. There's no point pretending, Ma'am. I heard you. You're a Talking Horse, a Narnian horse just like me."

Aravis thought quickly. She grabbed her sword hilt and said, fiercely, "What's it got to do with you if she is?"

Then, another voice spoke out.

"Why, it's only a girl!" it said in relief.

Aravis narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. She could see the person now, and could tell that he was no Tarkaan, not even a man.

"And what business is it of yours if I am _only_ a girl? You're probably _only_ a boy: a rude common little boy-- a slave probably, who's stolen his master's horse."

The boy glared at her, and she glared back. No slave boy was going to keep Aravis from Narnia.

_**(A/N: Read chapter 2 of Horse and His Boy for the rest of this chapter)**_

A bit later, after the four travelers had settled the matter of traveling together, they all settled down for a rest, Aravis brought out her saddle-bag which she had filled that day at a village.

"Would you like something to eat, _boy_?" she asked, offering it to Shasta first.

Shasta glared at her, crossed his arms, and said, "My name is Shasta, and no thank you I won't," so crossly that she cocked an eyebrow at him. Then, he sat leaned back against a tree and glowered at her. Aravis had to bite her tongue to hold back a giggle. He was just like Didi having a temper tantrum.

"I say, Aravis," Hwin whinnied after a while, "Bree is my second cousin!"

"Once removed, of course," the war horse added, pawing the ground.

Aravis fidgeted, and Shasta simply sat and looked blank. After Aravis had finished her meal, she leaned back against a tree and watched the two talking horses.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shasta peek into her saddlebag and take a small loaf of bread. Again, she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Finally, Bree turned to her and asked for her story.

Aravis sat up very straight, but still relaxed, and began to tell. She told of her lineage, of her father and dead mother, and her stepmother. When she spoke of Shar, her voice wavered ever so slightly, and Shasta looked at her curiously.

At this, she lifted her chin and decided that she would not weaken before this…peasant. She told of her suicide attempt and of Hwin's intervention. She told of all their travels and adventures, and when she had finished, Shasta leaned forward.

"And what happened to the girl—the one you drugged?" he asked.

Aravis winced at the word 'drugged', because it really was what she had done.

"Doubtless she was beaten for sleeping late," she said, pleased at the calm coolness in her voice. "But she was a tool and spy of my stepmother's. I am very glad they should beat her."

"I say, that was hardly fair," said the boy.

Aravis reddened and jumped to her feet.

"I did not do any of these things for the sake of pleasing you," she stated angrily.

"And there's another thing I don't understand about that story," Shasta said, looking at her curiously again, "You're not grown up, I don't believe you're any older than I am. I don't believe you're _as_ old. How could you be getting married at your age?"

Aravis bit her lip and counted to ten. She wanted to blow up and shout, "Because my father wants to ruin my life!" but she didn't. She looked down at the ground, and Bree spoke up.

"Shasta, don't display your ignorance. They're always married at that age in the great Tarkaan families."

Aravis looked up just in time to see the boy turn red, and then glare at the horse. She pretended not to notice.

"And now, War Horse," she said, "What is your story?"

Bree told his story, of his life in Calormene, of his and Shasta's escape, and also, describing very vividly Shasta's difficulty with horsemanship.

"And one night," Bree chortled, "he fell off seven times! Imagine!"

Aravis didn't laugh, having felt the ache of beginning to ride, and looked over at Shasta, who was now even redder than ever. He glanced over at her, and when he noticed Aravis watching him, he turned redder still.

Finally, Bree finished his story, and they all lay down to sleep. The last thought in Aravis' mind was, _Oh I do hope they aren't early risers! _And then she was asleep.

**A/N: Next chapter, we're going to skip a few days…maybe weeks, and end up in Tashbaan. **


	11. Chapter 10: The Secret Council

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. How many times must I repeat it?**

**A/N: This is the surrounding events of the Tisroc's secret council (chapter 8) in the eyes of someone other than Aravis. A few complications do occur in this case, however smiles evilly…**

_**A few weeks later in Tashbaan…**_

"All kneel to the great Ahoshta!" cried the herald as Ahoshta Tarkaan entered the room. A wave of people swept down to the knees, and Shar and Tran did the same. Ahoshta waddled forward, his short stature combined with his somewhat wide middle making him a comical sight.

Another crier stepped forward as Ahoshta plopped down on his seat, proclaming, "A message to the Grand Vizier from the Tisroc, may he live forever!"

Ahoshta leaned back in his chair.

"Oh, well, do read it," he ordered, signaling to the messenger with a hand covered in rings.

"To Ahoshta Tarkaan, newly arrived Grand Vizier of Calormen:

I, the Tisroc, send you greeting, and do require your immediate attendance in my hall this very day and hour. Speak to none of this meeting, for it is of utmost secrecy concerning my sons.

Until tonight,

The Tisroc of Calormen, may he live forever."

Shar and Tran glanced at each other. This was exactly the thing the Narnians needed to know. And since Queen Susan and King Edmund and their court had so quickly receded and escaped the city of Tashbaan, the Tisroc had been mightily troubled. Shar could only guess his intentions in calling Ahoshta to council.

"Shar!" Tran hissed, "We have to get into the meeting!"

"We can't! If the Tisroc says it's private, than no one goes in except who he's invited!"

Tran frowned and scratched his head.

"We have to get in! What if this means war? We have to be able to warn Narnia!"

Shar nodded and thought hard. They did have to get in, he knew that. This was what they had been watching him for.

"Okay…we'll figure something out!" Shar promised, knowing full well that if they were caught even planning something, they could be hanged for traitors.

A half hour later, Ahoshta climbed into his litter to be delivered to the Tisroc's palace. Shar and Tran stole along, still unsure of what to do.

"Shar, it can't just be the Tisroc and Ahoshta alone," Tran kept arguing. "They must have someone else with them."

"But they can't! Privacy is everything to people like the Tisroc. Even if someone did sneak in, he'd make sure they couldn't hear anything, and wouldn't be able to tell what they saw…"

Shar stopped short, and Tran ran into him from behind.

"I've got it!" Shar proclaimed, drawing several curious glances from the other servants.

"What?" Tran whispered.

"There is a way into that secret audience," Shar began. "The Tisroc is such a fat old man that he cant get around without some sort of escort."

"So…?"

Shar leaned forward.

"He is almost always accompanied by two slaves, deaf and dumb both, that walk backwards in front of him."

Tran soaked the words in and closed his eyes.

"Perfect," he murmured.

He glanced at Shar.

"Of course, we'll need to change our appearances, and I'm not sure how we will be able to pose as the slaves. Won't the Tisroc have some on hand?"

Shar shrugged.

"We can…eliminate them. Since they're dumb, they won't be able to tell what happened to them. It's do-able."

Tran grinned at him and nodded.

"Let's do it."

An hour later, the Tisroc summoned the two slaves to his hall. Tran and Shar had replaced them, and their faces were so well disguised that the Tisroc believed that they were the original slaves.

After a few moments, the Tisroc, Ahoshta, and Rabadash began walking toward the old palace, Tran and Shar walking backward in front of them, carrying tall candles. Shar, the first one in the old palace, heard a slight sound from behind him as he backed along the corridor. Not daring to glance backward, he continued on.

Then, the Tisroc remarked, "This room will do," and gestured to a room on Shar's right. Obediently, Shar pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Once in the room, Shar headed for the couch, remembering that he was to stand on one end as Tran stood at the other. Then, as he glanced down at the couch, he saw with horror that there were people behind it: not just any people, but two girls. And one of these girls was Aravis.

Even though his heart was racing, Shar calmly stepped in front of his sister, obscuring her face from anyone's view.

_Don't move, Princess_, he thought to himself. _Don't move._

After Tran, the Tisroc entered, and then Rabadash, and finally, Ahoshta, who knelt and put his face into the dusty rug. Then, the secret council began.

_**Read chapter 8 of HHB for the secret council. **_

Many things were discussed in that secret chamber. There, Shar heard things that could ruin the Tisroc if they should be told to others. Shar heard of the plan to attack Archenland, and then Narnia in a time of peace, simply because Queen Susan would not marry the prince.

Quite frankly, Shar thought Rabadash was a spoiled mule, so stubborn that even his own father had no hold over him. The fact that Aravis was in the room distracted him, though, and he hoped that Tran was paying better attention than he.

Shar could hear his sister and the other girl fidgeting back behind the couch, and knew that if they were found, neither he nor any other person would see them again.

After what seemed like ages, the Tisroc told his son that he had his permission to attack Narnia. Then, he bid the prince leave.

"To hear is to obey," Rabadash murmured and turned and flew from the room.

The Tisroc and Ahoshta stayed for a while, the Tisroc making sure that the Grand Vizier understood that the secret council had not happened.

Then, after Ahoshta had left, the Tisroc let out a huge sigh and got to his feet, signaling Shar and Tran to precede him through the door. Backing out the door, Shar saw the couch move the tiniest bit as the Tisroc stepped away.

_I hope they get away safely_, he thought vaguely. Then, he wondered why Aravis was in Tashbaan in the first place. Once the Tisroc and the two boys were out of the old palace and into the new palace, the Tisroc waved them away.

Shar and Tran carefully returned the candles to their rightful owners, and headed to the stables to talk over what had happened.

"We have to get this news to Narnia," Tran whispered as they stepped into the saddle room. Shar gazed around it, making sure there were no eavesdroppers nearby.

"Yes," Shar agreed, "this is important."

"Should we go by horse, or by boat?" Tran asked, glancing over at all the horses in the stable.

"If we go by land," Shar said, "we'll have to cross the desert. Even so, it's faster than boat, and if Rabadash is going by horse, and if we don't hurry—"

"He'll get to Archenland before we do," Tran finished.

"Let's go," Shar stated, standing and heading for the door of the room. "I'll get the horses—" he stopped and looked at the door.

There, standing in his way was Prince Rabadash, his black eyes glinting with wicked pleasure.

"What's this?" he asked mockingly, stepping into the room, "The deaf and dumb slaves _speak_?"

Shar's mouth went dry.

"Deaf and dumb?" Tran said, thinking fast, "We're stable hands!"

Rabadash stepped forward; two brawny guards followed him in.

"Imbecile!" he roared angrily, "Do you think I don't remember a face?"

The prince turned to the guards and jerked his head toward Shar and Tran.

"Bind them and take them to the Tisroc, may he live forever."

One of the guards stepped forward.

"What shall we tell them, Your Highness?"

Rabadash leaned forward and studied Shar's face, smirking evilly as he did.

"Tell him they are to be hanged as spies!"

**A/N: Next chapter: What becomes of the two Narnian spies? Will they hang as traitors? Will Aravis ever learn what really happened to her brother? Check back in a few days and see!**


	12. Chapter 11: A Follower of Aslan

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: Don't have much to say about this one…hope you like it…okay, so just read the story...please?**

"Great, just great," Tran muttered, thumping his head back against the dungeon wall.

Shar shrugged as well as he could with his hands shackled behind him, and sighed. For seven hours, the two boys had crouched in the soggy dungeon, thinking and planning any possible escape.

"How're we going to get out of here?" Tran asked, looking around for some way of escape.

"We don't," Shar replied wearily. "No one escapes from the Tisroc's dungeons."

"But we have to tell Archenland!" Tran exclaimed, tugging at his bonds. "They won't expect this attack! Anvard will fall!"

Shar nodded.

"I suppose it will. There's nothing we can do."

"We have to try!" replied Tran as he yanked and pulled at his hands.

"Calm down," Shar said, glancing over at his friend. "What is it with you? What's so important about Anvard?"

Tran sighed and put his head in his hands.

"My mother is in Anvard. My father died when I was a child, and my mother is the only person left. I just..." Tran's voice trailed off. "Oh Aslan," he murmured, glancing up at the dungeon ceiling, "we need your help!"

Nothing happened. Shar coughed, and Tran looked over at him.

"What?"

"Do you honestly think that some demon lion is going to be able to get us out of the Tisroc's dungeon?" Shar asked.

"He isn't a demon lion!" Tran cried, his face turning red. "He's the savior of Narnia!"

Shar raised an eyebrow, and Tran glared at him.

"So," Shar said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "what is he like?"

"He's a lion," Tran replied. "And he saved King Edmund's life. You see, Edmund had betrayed his family..."

Tran told the story of how the four Pevinsies came through the wardrobe and defeated the witch.

"So," Shar said when he was done, "he saved the traitor?"

"Yes," Tran confirmed, nodding.

"Could he," Shar hesitated, "would he save me?"

"Of course," Tran replied, smiling and nodding again.

"Than I will follow him," Shar resolved, looking up at the roof, where the slime dripped icy water on the floor.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Two guards, carrying spears, entered the room.

"Get up," the one on the right ordered.

Cautiously, Shar and Tran got to their feet. The guards pushed them out the door, and the two prisoners stumbled down the dark corridors. After several minutes, they entered a small courtyard. Shar blinked at the light as they came out under the sun.

To one side of the courtyard was a scaffold, from which was hanging one rope, looped into a noose at one end. Tran gulped behind him, but Shar's face remained stoic. If he was to die here, he would die bravely.

"Come on, you!" cried a man with a black mask on his face, pointing to Shar. "You shall be the first to die!"

The guards pushed him forward with their spears, and Shar stepped forward bravely. As he stepped up onto the platform, he glanced over at the door and noticed a bright flash of color.

In any other situation, Shar would have explored the object that caught his eye, but not here; not now. As the executioner pulled the noose around his neck and tightened it, he lifted his chin and met Tran's eye.

He was a follower of Aslan, and he would die like a Narnian.

Satisfied with his fate, Shar closed his eyes. Scenes from his life flashed before his eyes. His father…his mother…Didi…Aravis; at least he wouldn't feel guilty about lying to her about his death anymore. Shar took one more breath, and set his teeth.

He was a follower of Aslan, and he would die like a Narnian. The noose grew tight, and the world grew faint.

_I'm coming, my king,_ he thought.

"No!" cried a new voice, "Wait!"

The pressure on Shar's neck lessened considerably, and he opened his eyes. The executioner was bowing, as were the guards. Shar followed their gazes, and then saw why.

A girl, dressed in royal robes, stood in the center of the courtyard, staring at Shar in horror and fear. In a flash, their eyes met, and Shar knew who she was: the Princess Araleena, the girl he had saved from the Telmarine Pirate!

Araleena stood in the courtyard, her chin held high and her hands clenched into fists. No wonder her father had forbidden her to enter this courtyard! As she looked at the young man on the gallows, and he looked at her, a spark of recognition lit in his eyes.

_Of course! _she _thought, It's the young man who saved me! Um…Shar!_

She glanced over at the other young man, and recognized him, also. His skin was lighter than it had been when they met before, but it was definitely the other young man who brought her down from the mountain!

"Guards," she said loudly, catching Shar's eye, "Release these prisoners at once!"

"But my lady," the executioner said, standing up. "They are dangerous criminals, and your father has ordered that they be—"

"Silence!" Araleena cried, raising her chin defiantly. "Do you dare defy a royal princess?"

"But—"

Araleena stepped forward and looked at the man angrily.

"Do you understand that I can have you killed at the snap of my fingers?"

"But the Tisroc, may he live forever—"

"Is my father!" He has given me leave to come here and release these men!" Araleena lied. "Now do as I say, or I shall have your head!"

"To hear is to obey," the executioner murmured, bowing and ripping the rope from Shar's neck.

He was watching her, and when he noticed her eyes on him, he lowered his head as if in a bow, of sorts.

"Untie them!" Araleena ordered, motioning at both of them.

The guards promptly obeyed, and Shar stood on the grass for a moment, rubbing his wrists.

"Now be gone!" the princess cried, glaring at the men. "They will not harm me!"

The guards looked hesitant, but did as she said. She was, after all, a royal princess. As the two guards left the courtyard, one of them muttered, "Oh well. If she gets herself killed, at least she's to blame and not us."

Shar stood still for a moment, just staring at Princess Araleena. He couldn't believe that he was still alive. Tran was still frozen where the guard had untied him, still not believing their good fortune.

"I can't believe it," he murmured. "That mission paid off after all!"

Then, Shar remembered Araleena.

"My lady," he said, bowing gallantly. "We owe you our lives."

The princess blushed.

"No more than I owe you my life. But I do wonder," she paused and glanced at Tran, and then back at Shar, "what crime did you commit? Surely you were not about to be hanged because of your disobedience to your commander?"

Shar let out a short laugh.

"No, Chlamash let us off without a beating that time. I'm afraid its much more serious than that."

"I see," Araleena replied, her face darkening a bit, and biting her lip. "So, what was your offense?"

Shar and Tran exchanged a glance, but Araleena saw it and understood. Tran was so white because he was not a Calormene.

"Spies," she spat, her face growing hard and cold, "I should have known."

She turned and began walking away. Shar jumped forward and grabbed her arm.

"Wait!"

She turned toward him and glared at him.

"I should have let them hang you! Who do you spy for? Narnia? Archenland?"

"Both," Shar said wearily. "And yes, it's probably too late for us to do any good."

"Why were you caught?" Araleena asked, not softening her voice at all.

"We were spying on your brother Rabadash, and heard his and your father's plans to attack Archenland," Shar answered.

Araleena wrenched her arm away and drew back.

"What? But we have peace with Archenland!"

Shar nodded.

"I know, but Rabadash wants to marry Queen Susan. He thinks that he can get her by force, and apparently he'll do anything to get her."

"I didn't know he decided to do _that_," Araleena said scornfully. "He's such a donkey!"

"Well now Archenland will be attacked and Queen Susan will be his slave," Shar sighed.

Araleena looked down and bit her lip. She thought hard and fast.

"Look," she said, glancing to the left and to the right, "we need to get you to Archenland."

"What?" Shar asked, surprised at her change of heart.

"It wouldn't be any good if we did get there," Tran said from behind him. "He's probably already begun."

"True," Araleena murmured, turning and pacing the courtyard.

Then, she faced Shar again.

"You have to go anyway. Even if you don't get there in time, at least you'll be safe."

"But…" Shar turned to look at the princess, "what about you? You lied about your father setting us free. What will he do when he—"

"I'll be fine," Araleena said quickly, looking down. "He won't find out."

Shar raised an eyebrow, and she blushed.

"I guess we'd better take you with us!" he said softly, glancing up at the sun.

"Would you?" the princess asked, looking back up at him.

"Certainly! If your father finds out, you would be in huge trouble."

"I've never liked it here," Araleena continued. "It's no fun being trapped and watched by everyone. At…at Mezreel, where I was captured…well, I was running away. I couldn't stand it!"

"My sister felt the same," Shar said, smiling briefly and thinking of Aravis.

She was their only hope of getting news to Archenland now, and Shar wasn't sure that she was headed that way.

"We have to go now if were going to go at all," Tran said. "Let's go to the stable, and get some horses."

Araleena nodded, and Shar followed as Tran stepped cautiously through the corridors, jumping every time someone came around the corner. Finally, they reached the stable. Quietly, Shar and Tran saddled three horses, and led them outside. Without a word, Shar helped the princess up, and then mounted his own steed. Just as they were turning to escape, a harsh yell came from behind them.

"Halt!" it cried, "Stop thieves!"

It was too late. Shar, Tran, and the Princess Araleena were gone in a flash, galloping toward the desert, and to the north.

**A/N: See, your reviews do change things! So tell me what you thought! Now, you're probably wondering if they will make it to Archenland at all…check back, and we'll see…; )**


	13. Chapter 12: Hermit of the Southern March

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN NARNIA!**

**A/N: Please review! Hope you like it…okay, I'm done talking.**

"Shar, Shar wait!" Araleena panted. "I…I need a walk!"

Shar turned back in the saddle and looked at the princess. Her face was dripping with sweat, and her lips were chapped and dry. After six hours of heat in the hottest hours of the day, Araleena was having second thoughts.

"All right," Shar said, pulling his horse up. "We'll rest."

Tran twitched impatiently on his stallion.

"If we don't hurry," he began, but Shar stopped him with a glance.

"I know, slave driver," he said with a grin, "But we won't arrive in time anyway!"

Tran grinned back, but then kept looking straight ahead. Even at a walk, he was determined to make it to Archenland before Rabadash.

Hours later, when the sun had set and the moon had risen, they still pressed onward, galloping across the sand, and walking when Araleena needed a rest. To be honest, Shar was relieved when she called his name to say she was too tired. He was stiff and sore, and his wrists still ached from the long night in the prison.

When the sun rose, Tran cried out, and pointed to a small ravine to their right. Shar wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out.

"Come on!" Tran cried, kicking his horse and going down the ravine.

After a few minutes walk, they found that they were riding toward a small stream, which turned into a river! The three weary travelers jumped in a pool of water, and their horses bent their heads to drink.

Once they felt refreshed, they ate a bit of bread, and then looked about. Shar noticed a worn area in the grass, and touched it with his finger. Then, he noticed a blue ribbon hanging from a tree near the pool.

"Someone else was here," he said as if to himself.

Then his heart leapt. What if it was Aravis! What if she had gotten through after all!

"We need to keep going," Tran said, startling him. "We're not far from the Southern March now. We can rest there."

"The Southern March?" Araleena asked, cocking her head.

Her veil was gone, and her blue dress was wet. Her hair, which had been perfect at the palace, was now a tangled mess. She ran her fingers through it until it straightened a bit, and tied it back.

"Yes," Tran replied, "There's a hermit there. We can stop there."

The three mounted their horses, and continued on their way. The horses, by now, were exhausted, so they walked up the steep bank on the other side. Slowly, carefully, they ascended the hill and kept walking in a northerly direction.

"I see it!" Araleena cried, pointing ahead at the green wall that rested on the horizon.

Shar and Tran galloped their horses the rest of the way, and arrived at the Hermit's home inside the green walls.

"Hermit, sir!" Tran yelled as they approached the gates. "Hermit of the Southern March!"

"Who calls?" came an old voice from inside the walls.

"It is I," Tran replied, "Tran of Archenland!"

The gates swung open with a creak, and an old man stepped out.

"Greetings, my son," he said. "Have you news of Rabadash?"

Tran's mouth dropped open.

"How do you know of Rabadash?" he asked in surprise.

The hermit nodded knowingly, jerking his head over his shoulder.

"Only half an hour ago, a young boy and girl came to this place. The girl was wounded by a lion, and the boy had news of Rabadash. I sent him on to King Lune."

"Wounded?" Shar said, dismounting his horse and stepping toward the gate. "May I see her?"

"My son, she is sorely wounded," the hermit replied, shaking his head.

"Is she…she isn't going to…" Shar's voice trailed off.

Araleena slipped off her horse behind him and touched his arm.

"Who is this girl?" she asked gently.

Shar met the hermit's eyes and said, "I need to see her."

The hermit stared at him for a few moments, and then nodded.

"I have watched you long, my son. Fear not; your sister will live."

Araleena and Tran gasped, as did Shar.

"How did you know that she was…" he began, but the hermit's knowing eyes stopped him.

"Shar, my son," the hermit said, "you and Tran must go to Anvard."

"I'm going with them," Araleena insisted.

"Your highness," Shar said wearily, turning to the princess, "It's too dangerous."

Araleena stuck out her chin and a stubborn look came over her face.

"I'm not afraid!" she replied.

Shar sighed and glanced at the hermit.

"How much further to Anvard?"

The hermit led them in his hermitage and took them to the northern gate.

"I sent the boy through this gate, and told him to run. He will reach King Lune in time, but Aslan has told me to send you on. Doubtless you are needed in some way that I do not know."

"Where is Rabadash?" Tran asked, stepping forward.

"He has crossed the Winding Arrow, but you can beat him to Anvard if you hurry. You must go now."

"But sir," Shar protested, "our horses are spent."

"Are they?" the hermit asked, eyeing him curiously. "My magic does not work on talking horses, but these, I think, are ready again."

Shar turned to his horse, and the black stallion threw back his head and whinnied loudly. It was clear that the horse's weariness was gone.

"Thank you, hermit," Tran told the man. Then, he turned to the other two. "Let's go."

"I must see Aravis!" Shar insisted, turning back toward the house, but the hermit grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"Do this for Archenland, my son," he said, squeezing the boy's shoulder.

Shar straightened up, and nodded.

"Take care of her," he said, and then swung up on his horse. "For Anvard!" he cried, swinging round and galloping out the gate.

"For Anvard!" Tran cried, as he and Araleena mounted their horses and followed.

After several long minutes of hard riding, the three came to an open place. Looking down, Shar could see hoof prints in the dirt.

"They came this way!" he cried, pointing up into a mountainous path.

And so they rode onward. After a while more, they saw dust rising behind them.

"Rabadash!" Araleena shrieked in rage, and then, "Hurry!"

Now, it was a race to Anvard. Shar, Tran, and Araleena were only perhaps a minute ahead of Rabadash, and secretly, each knew that they had a good chance of being caught. A dark mist fell upon them. They came to a fork in the road, and Shar caught a glimpse of a dark figure leaving the road. Tran, who knew this part of Archenland, thundered past Shar.

"Is that Anvard?" Araleena shouted after a few moments.

"Yes!" Tran replied, staring through the mist. "That's Anvard! Hurry!"

The noise behind them had ceased, and Shar began to hope that they might make it in time. Finally, they reached the castle gates, which were shut fast.

"Open the gates!" Tran shouted up at the guard who was peering down at them.

"Who are ye?" the man replied, trying to get a better look at them.

"It's Tran, son of Sir Edwin!" Tran cried, glancing over his shoulder.

Rabadash and his 200 horsemen were coming now. Araleena gasped and bit her lip.

"Please, let us in!" she cried, looking tearfully up at the man.

The gates slowly creaked open a crack, and the three riders cantered in. Once inside, Shar sighed in relief and swung off his horse. He turned to help Araleena down, but as she dismounted the horse, her face grew pale, and she fainted, falling the rest of the way off. Shar caught her before she hit the ground, and then looked up and saw five Archenlanders pointing bows at him and the princess.

"Take one step, Calormen," a tall man said angrily, "and thou art dead!"

Shar stood helplessly, holding the princess, not daring to move.

"Wait!" Tran cried, "he's a friend of Archenland! Don't shoot!"

A tall man with a merry face entered the courtyard and took in the situation.

"Eh, what's this?" he asked, many wrinkles creasing his forehead.

The sound of arrows turned everyone's eyes to the gates, but two guards kept their bows on Shar.

"We're under attack, Sire. What shall we do with these prisoners."

"But—" Shar protested, but the tall young man cut him off.

"Quiet, you! Sire?"

The merry man, who seemed to be the king, put his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Darrin, Darrin! You must not be so quick to judge! For all you know, these are friends of Archenland, and not her enemies!"

"They are, Sire," Tran said, stepping forward and kneeling before the king. "King Lune, we have come to warn you of Rabadash, but it seems we were too late!"

"So it would seem," King Lune replied, a twinkle in his eyes. Then the twinkle vanished. "A young lad found my hunting party and delivered your message. We brought him with us, but in our haste, he was lost behind us in the mist!"

The king shook his head and lowered his eyes, muttering, "And he looked so like Corin. I do hope he got by Rabadash."

"Sire," Darrin said, throwing back his head and looking toward the king, "What shall we do with these…Calormenes?"

"Well," the king said, looking back at Shar, "It seems that this young man is in need of some assistance with—" he stopped, for Araleena was stirring.

The princess' eyes fluttered open, she gazed into Shar's face.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"You fainted," he replied. "We made it."

Carefully, Shar set the princess on her feet, and she managed to stand up by herself.

"My lady," King Lune said, bowing courteously and kissing her hand, "you are welcome in my house!"

"You are most gracious, my lord, considering what my brother Rabadash has done, breaking the peace."

At this, the people gasped, but King Lune merely nodded as if he had known the whole time.

"That is his fault, not yours," he said, smiling slightly. Then, he clapped his hands. Two young women appeared, and he said, "Will you escort the lady to some suitable rooms and attend her?"

The two maids nodded, and they helped Araleena away.

"And you, my son," King Lune said, turning to Shar, "you must be tired as well?"

"I am, Sire," the boy replied, "but I would rather stay on the walls and help fight than sleep just now."

The king nodded, and turned to Tran.

"And you, Tran?" he asked with a knowing grin.

"I will stay as well," Tran replied, exchanging a glance with Shar.

The two boys went to the armory, and received armor and swords, and then sat back to wait.

**A/N: Review, if you please! I'm sorry this took so long to put out, but I was on a vacation, and…yeah. Next time, what we've all been waiting for…the battle.**


	14. Chapter 13: The Fight at Anvard

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: If you will just give me a moment of your precious time, I want to explain something that I find really cool. You see, I didn't really come up with Tran and Shar. I found them in the Horse and His Boy. "WHAT?" I bet you're asking. "What is this crazy person talking about?"**

**Get your HHB copies, Narniacs. Chapter 13, **_**the fight at Anvard**_**. Especially note the part that says, and I quote, **

**"Oh, good! good! The gates are opening from the inside: there's going to be a sortie. The first three are out. It's King Lune in the middle: the brothers Dar and Darrin on each side of him. Behind them are **_**Tran and Shar**_** and Cole with his brother Colin."**

–**The Hermit of the Southern March**

**Impressed? Okay, I'll quit talking now.**

_An arrow whistled overhead, missing Shar's head by barely an inch. He heard a thud behind him, and then a sharp gasp. Whirling around with his sword in his hand, Shar saw the worst sight in the world._

_"Aravis!" he screamed, running toward his younger sister, whose face was white in shock and pain. "What are you doing here?"_

_"Oh Shar," Aravis murmured, sinking to the ground._

_An arrow protruded from her right shoulder. Shar dropped his sword and grabbed her, setting her gently on the ground._

_"Aravis, can you hear me?" he asked fearfully. "Aravis, say something!"_

_"You left us," Aravis murmured, tears streaming down her white face. "We thought you were dead!"_

_"Aravis, I—" Shar's stopped as his sister's eyes closed. "Aravis! Wake up!"_

_"It's no good," Tran's voice said from behind him. "She's dead. She died the day you left her."_

_"No!" Shar screamed, grabbing his sister like he was afraid she would disappear. "Aravis! You can't die! You can't!"_

_"Shaaar…" came a far away voice, piercing the shock that enveloped Shar._

"Shaaaar…wake up!"

Someone shook him, and Shar opened his eyes. Startled, he looked around, searching for Aravis. Tran was looking at him like he was loosing his mind.

"You fell asleep. You must have been very tired. King Lune is ready to attack," Tran explained. "Are you all right?"

"I…I'm fine," Shar managed to say. "Just a bad dream."

He stood shakily, and drew his sword from his sheath.

"Let's teach Rabadash a lesson," he said, straightening and lifting his chin as he caught the eye of young Lord Darrin.

"To battle!" several men cried.

"To battle!" Shar and Tran answered them.

King Lune drew his sword and stepped up to the gates. Dar and Darrin stood to his right and to his left, and the two brothers, Cole and Colin, stood behind the king. Tran and Shar took their place behind the brothers, and waited in silent anticipation.

"Open the gates!" King Lune ordered.

The gates slowly creaked open, and King Lune stepped outside. Archers covered them from the walls. Before Shar left the safety of the castle, however, he saw Araleena in a doorway, watching him fearfully.

_It's okay,_ he thought, nodding to her. _I'll be fine_. She nodded back, giving him a tiny smile.

"To battle!" the men cried, and King Lune charged forward.

The Calormenes were almost gone. A small knot of men stood together, back to back, with Rabadash facing the Narnians, and Chlamash toward the Archenlanders. Shar saw the Narnian army on the other side of the Calormenes, and knew that they more than outnumbered Rabadash's men. This battle was won.

"You!" came a shout from Shar's elbow.

Rabadash's black eyes glared at Shar and Tran in horror and shock.

"How did you get here?" he asked, swinging his sword toward Shar's head. "Traitor!"

Shar ducked and kicked the prince back, knocking Rabadash's sword beyond his reach.

"Aslan was watching over us," he replied, smiling a bit as he stood over Rabadash.

Rabadash's face twisted into a snarl, and he reached into his boot and withdrew a dagger he had hidden there.

"Tash has his revenge!" he screamed, throwing the knife with deadly accuracy.

Shar moved to his left, but then cried out in pain. The dagger pierced his right shoulder, pinning him to a wooden part of the castle wall. Rabadash grabbed his sword and came toward Shar, ready to finish him, but King Edmund stepped between the two Calormenes and engaged Rabadash in a furious battle of swordplay. Shar grasped the knife in his shoulder and pulled it out, yelping again as a fresh burst of pain ran through his arm. The days of travel, the loss of blood, and the weariness that came with staying up for hours on end finally consumed him. Shar slumped to the ground, and the world disappeared.

When Shar awoke, the first things that came to his ears were shouts of joy and praise. The Calormenes had surrendered! Then, everyone started to laugh, and when Shar saw the source of their amusement, he smiled as well. Rabadash was hung up on the wall. His face was very red, and his face was contorted in anger and embarrassment. Then, a twang of pain ran up Shar's arm, and he examined his wound.

"Shar!" Tran cried, running up to his friend. "We won!"

"We surely did," Shar replied, smiling at the childlike eagerness of his friend. "Did you see Rabadash?"

The Prince was being helped down, and everyone laughed again as he was put in irons and led away.

"Apparently," Tran was saying, "he cried, 'the bolt of Tash falls from above', just as he jumped! I wish I had seen it!"

"Me too," Shar agreed.

"You two," Lord Darrin said, glaring at them, "enough rejoicing. There are wounded to attend to."

This sobered them down a bit, and Tran and Shar helped wounded men, Calormene, Narnian, and Archenlanders all into the castle. Shar found Araleena helping wounded men in the makeshift infirmary in one of the barracks.

"Oh Shar!" she cried, running to him and embracing him. "I was so afraid for you!"

"Shhh," Shar soothed, "It's all over now. There isn't anything left to worry about."

"Ah, good lady," boomed a loud voice, echoing through the barrack, "How fare the wounded men?"

Both turned to face King Lune. At his side stood two young boys, exactly alike in every way except for their clothing.

"Many men were wounded, my lord," Araleena replied soberly, "but most will heal."

"That is very good," King Lune replied jollily. "And now, my lady, if you have a minute, will you tie a bandage on my son's hand?"

"Were you in the battle?" Shar asked the boys.

"Why of course we were," the one on the king's right said. "We were with King Edmund!"

"He let children fight?" Araleena asked in a shocked voice.

Both of the boys straightened up at this, and the first boy said, "I'm not a child. I'm fourteen years old!"

"And so am I," the other added.

"Sorry," Shar apologized with a smile. "I didn't know."

Araleena grabbed a bandage, and the king smiled at her.

"I'll leave these two to help you, but I have other work to do. Be good, Cor; Corin."

"Yes, father," the boys replied, almost in unison, but Cor seemed to falter over the word.

"So which one of you is wounded?" Araleena asked after a moment.

Corin pushed his brother forward, stating, "He is."

Cor blushed.

"It's not really a wound!" he said embarrassedly. "I only scratched the skin of my knuckles. I really don't need it bandaged."

"Let me see," Araleena ordered, holding out her hand.

Cor obeyed, and Araleena studied his hand.

"It isn't that bad," she admitted after a moment, and Cor tried to pull away, but she held on. "But, it's still bleeding. We might as well bandage it."

She ripped a piece of soft cloth off of a bigger roll, and she gently wrapped Cor's hand in it.

"There. How does that feel?"

"Much better, thanks," Cor said, smiling shyly at her.

"Were you in the battle?" Corin asked Shar, sizing him up. "You were on Rabadash's side, weren't you?"

"Actually, Prince Corin," Shar said, winding more cloth into a roll of bandage, "I fought for Archenland."

"Yes he did," Araleena put in, "and he almost died as a spy for you in Calormen."

"Really? You're a spy?" Cor asked, now interested.

"Was," Shar replied, not looking at any of them. "I was caught."

"Who did you spy on?" Cor asked curiously.

"I doubt you've ever heard of him," Shar replied, smiling at the lad. "Ahoshta Tarkaan."

Cor gasped, and Shar looked sharply at him.

"So you have heard of him?"

"Yes, but not much. Aravis was supposed to marry him."

"What?" Now it was Shar's turn to gasp in shock. "How did you know that?"

"She told me," Cor replied, shaking his head as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Wait a minute. How do you know Aravis?"

"I was just going to ask you that," Shar said angrily.

"I met her in Calormen," Cor said.

"How did you end up in Calormen?" Shar asked.

"It's a long story," the boy replied. "I lived in Calormen before I knew who I was. Then, I decided to run away, and I met Aravis, and we escaped together."

"So you and Aravis came all this way by yourselves?" Shar questioned, not quite believing what he heard.

"Well, we did have Bree and Hwin," Cor replied, scratching his head. "They're horses. Talking horses."

Shar leaned back and shook his head. Then he remembered the hermit.

"How did you come across the desert?" he asked the boy.

"We just crossed it," Cor said simply. "Then we saw Rabadash behind us, and then the lion started chasing us,"

"A lion?"

"Yes! It wounded Aravis, and then we came to the hermit, and he told me to run straight ahead and I found King Lune, I mean, father, and told him about Rabadash."

"So you were the boy the hermit mentioned," Shar surmised. "What a story!"

"It's true!" Cor insisted, and Shar nodded.

"Don't worry, I believe you. It's exactly the thing Aravis always got mixed up in."

"So how do you know Aravis?" Cor asked curiously.

"I…" Shar knew he had to tell someone. He was tired of secrets. "She's my sister."

**A/N: Please tell me what you think. Your opinion matters, and I am very interested in what you have to say. Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll check back for the next chapter when Aravis and Shar are reunited…**


	15. Chapter 14: Reunion

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: Ah yes, the time has come. Shar and Aravis finally reunited, and all set at rights…almost. Enjoy, and I would love a review…(hint, hint)…**

"You're Aravis' brother?" Cor asked, his blue eyes open wide.

"I'm Shar," Shar said, holding out his hand.

Cor just looked at it, and then said quickly, "But Aravis said her older brother was dead. Does she know that you're alive?"

Shar winced and replied, "I'm afraid not. I had to fake my death in order to escape my father's influence."

"And you tricked Aravis as well," Cor added angrily. "Didn't it ever _occur_ to you that she had feelings? That she might believe it and _kill herself_ in anguish?"

"What?" Shar asked, stepping back. "Where did you get that?"

"She almost did," Cor spat. "When your stepmother got her engaged to Ahoshta, she almost did kill herself. Because you weren't there to help her."

"Now look," Shar said, glaring daggers at Cor, "It wasn't my fault Aravis got engaged. That's my fathers fault. Not mine."

"But it is your fault," Cor shouted, turning red. "If you were there, would your father really have dared to do that?"

"Well…" Shar couldn't think of a reply. "What does this have to do with you anyway?"

"Because he likes her," Corin burst in with a mischievous grin spreading across his freckled face.

Cor turned even redder, and glared at his brother.

"Corin," he said dangerously, "please mind your own business."

"Maybe you should as well, Prince Cor," Araleena put in softly, as Corin raised his fists threateningly. "This is between Aravis and Shar."

Cor bit his lip and looked down.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, glancing up at Shar. "I probably shouldn't have said all that."

"Someone needed to," Shar replied wearily. "I've been wrong. I never should've faked my death. Did…did she really try to kill herself?"

Cor nodded solemnly. Shar sighed, and shook his head.

"What a fool I've been!" he exclaimed softly.

"Run along, you two," Araleena told the twins. "Leave him alone for a while."

The two boys turned away, but Cor stopped and turned back.

"I suppose I ought to tell you," he said to Shar, "I'm going to bring Aravis from the Hermit's home. Do you want to go instead?"

"No," Shar replied halfheartedly. "You go."

The two Calormenes stood in silence for a few moments after the twin princes had gone, but then Shar felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He didn't look up.

"Oh Shar," Araleena said, "It's not your fault!"

"But it is," he replied. "I was wrong."

Then, a warm voice spoke from behind them.

"My son."

Shar looked up, and saw a great lion, as big as a horse, standing before him. Several feelings flashed through him then. Shar's first instinct was to feel fear, to be afraid of the great 'demon lion' as he was called in Calormen. But then he remembered how he had pledged his life to Aslan at the Tisroc's palace as he stood before death, and an overwhelming sense of joy ran through him, turning his fear and sorrow to love and excitement.

"My son," the lion said again.

"Aslan," Shar murmured, dropping to one knee. "Oh Aslan! I've been a fool. I should have thought ahead, should have realized what my actions would cause!"

"My dear son," Aslan said, breathing on the Calormene boy, "No matter how you regret your actions, they cannot be undone. Your sister is well; do not be so sad."

With the lion's breath, new strength and courage flooded through Shar's body, and he raised his head and looked Aslan in the eye.

"And you, daughter of Calormene," the great lion said, turning to Araleena, "Well done. Long have I watched you, and long you have known me."

"I have always desired you, my lord," Araleena stated, "Not Tash, who my father follows."

"It is well said," Aslan replied in a warm voice. "And now, my children, farewell. I have more work to do before the day is out."

His golden light and the fragrance of his breath hung around them for one second more, and then he disappeared, leaving Shar and Araleena in the silence broken only by the groan of wounded soldiers.

"I have work to do," Araleena said suddenly, reminded of her duty.

Shar watched her go, and then stood up, staring after the princess. His heavy heart was gone at last, and his mind at peace.

Aravis' maid, Nadeena, guided her skillfully through the halls of the castle, Anvard.

I _wonder what Shasta…I mean _Cor_ is doing right now_, Aravis found herself wondering.

"These are your rooms, milady," Nadeena said in her nasal voice. "Oh!"

Nadeena stopped short as she entered the sitting room, making Aravis bump into her from behind.

"I'm sorry, sir," Nadeena said. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

Aravis peeked around the maid, and saw a young man, who had stood up when the girls entered.

"No…" Aravis breathed.

She studied the young man carefully. His black hair…his mischievous eyes…it was him.

"No!" she shouted, backing up as Nadeena looked on in bewilderment. "You're dead! You died!"

"Aravis!" Shar choked, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. "I'm so sorry!"

For once, she couldn't speak. She just rested in her brother's embrace, silent tears filling her eyes.

"You're alive," she whispered after a moment. "I can't believe you're alive!"

"Shhh," Shar comforted, stroking his sister's hair, "Everything is all right now, Princess. It's all right."

"Oh Shar!" Aravis finally said, looking up at him. "What happened? Why did they tell us you were dead? And how are you here?"

Shar touched a tear on her pale face, and replied, "It's a long story. I faked my death, and spied for Narnia. I know I should have told you, but I made the mistake of not doing so. I watched over you, though. I was in Azim Balda when the man assaulted you, and I was in the Tisroc's secret council."

"You left us," Aravis said abruptly, another tear slipping down her cheek. "Why did you leave Didi and me alone with _them_?"

"I…" Shar didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

"I thought you were dead!" Aravis sobbed, "But you went on living and didn't tell me? Don't you love me, Shar?"

"Of course I do," Shar replied, his eyes filling with tears. "I love you more than anything else in this life. Aravis, I made a mistake; I know that. Can you forgive me for lying to you?"

"Of course I can!" she replied softly after thinking for a moment. "You're alive! That's all that matters now!"

Shar held her, noticing for the first time how much she had grown. No longer was Aravis a little girl. Now, her head came up to his shoulder, and she was more beautiful than ever before.

"You've grown up, little princess," he said after a moment.

"So have you!" Aravis sobbed, looking up at him again. "You're different. I'm so glad you're here…in Archenland, I mean. If only Didi was here!"

"Someday," Shar promised. "Someday, princess."

At dinner that night, King Lune told all those who had not been present for the council for Rabadash what had happened. Then, he presented Rabadash to them all as a donkey. Shar and Tran exchanged a joyful glance at this, remembering how hateful he had been in Tashbaan. Then the feast began.

Shar enjoyed it all. The food was not extravagant as it was in Calormen, but the Archenlandish cooks had given new flavors to the foods Shar had eaten a dozen times at home. Then, when the minstrels began, not only Shar, but also Aravis and Cor were amazed at the difference between Calormene and Northern poetry. Several stories were told, and then King Lune told all the people of how Cor was to be king, at which Cor seemed a bit confused. It took almost no time for the king to straighten it out. That night, Shar went to sleep with no secrets on his heart and a peaceful mind. He was home at last.

**A/N: Please review! Tell me what you think! In the next chapter, we might skip a few years to Cor and Aravis' wedding. Hope that won't disorient you too much.**


	16. Chapter 15: Troublesome Twins

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia.**

**A/N: This is about two years after HHB. Just to remind you, Cor is 16, Aravis is 15, Shar is 21, and Araleena is 20.  
**

"Prince Cor, please pay attention to the lesson."

At the droning voice's command, Cor sighed and looked away from the window and back at the tutor who stood at the front of the small schoolroom of the Castle Anvard, where there were only three students. Cor hated being tutored. It wasn't that he hated learning. In fact, he was rather good at some things, and better than both Corin and Aravis at Arithmetic. But when it came to Grammar and Reading…well, he rather wished that there were no such things as books.

As he started to ignore the monotone of the teacher again, he felt a poke in his side. He jumped, and looked to his right into Aravis' concerned face. Corin was snickering to her right, watching his twin's struggle to pay attention.

"Are you all right?" Aravis whispered as the tutor scribbled some words on the chalk blackboard with his back to them. "You look awfully tired."

"He just doesn't like Grammar," Corin hissed, a playful grin on his face.

Cor glared at him.

"Look, Corin, just because you're not any good at math—"

"Prince Cor," droned the voice from the front of the room. "Please refrain from speaking during the lesson."

Cor flushed as he looked straight forward, and could hear Corin's muffled laughter to his right.

The tutor walked up to Cor's desk and glared down at the fair-haired youth.

"If this disruptive behavior continues, your highness, I shall report it to your royal father."

"Yes, Cor," Corin whispered from the other side of Aravis as the teacher headed back to the front, "Do straighten up."

Cor, his face bright red, was half way out of his seat before Aravis grabbed his arm and gave him a look. With a glare at Corin, he sat back down before the teacher noticed. Carefully, for fear he should be caught, he scribbled down a note on a scrap of paper and poked Aravis, jerking his head at his twin.

Aravis frowned at him, but passed the note to Corin, who opened it eagerly. There was only one word on the paper: _Later._

* * *

Shar stood in the stables, leaning against the wall. Off in one stall, he heard the royal tutor complaining to King Lune.

"Your highness, I must insist that you speak to your son. He was most disruptive today in class."

"Oh that boy!" King Lune exclaimed jollily. "What's he done now?"

"Well, Sire, he stubbornly refused to pay attention today while we were studying the infinitely fascinating realm of Grammar."

Shar rolled his eyes. Infinitely fascinating? That was pushing it. King Lune seemed to think so as well.

"Doctor Typhus," King Lune said solemnly, "he is only a boy. If I recall, I hated Grammar when I was a boy as well."

"That may be, Sire," the man said, "but your son was also speaking in class, passing notes, and I believe I heard him mocking me as well."

"Ah, Typhus, you must forgive Corin. He's a mischievous lad, but he means well."

"Sire, I do not speak of Prince Corin. It was your highness's other son that was so disruptive today."

"Cor?"

Shar could feel the surprise radiating from the king.

"But I have never known Cor to be disruptive in anything. How strange!"

"Not at all, Sire," the tutor said, shaking his head vigorously, "It is no strange occasion when he disrupts my class."

"Hm, ahem…well, Doctor Typhus, I shall be sure to speak to Prince Cor about this."

"Thank you, Sire," the children's teacher said, bowing, and leaving the stable.

Shar watched as King Lune stood for a moment, patting the neck of his warhorse.

"Oh Wick…what am I going to do with those boys?"

He sighed and walked out of the stable, shaking his head. The king stopped, however, when he saw Shar standing in the shadows.

"Ah, Shar, my boy!" he said cheerfully. "Your work with the horses is better than any other horseman I've ever seen!"

"Thank you, Sire," Shar replied, bowing his head slightly.

King Lune had given him the position of horse master after the battle with Rabadash, when Shar had decided that he would rather stay in Archenland than go on to Narnia. He certainly couldn't go back to Calormen.

Lune bent toward him and said softly, "You heard the tutor?"

Shar nodded, repressing the urge to grin. Lune sighed and shook his head.

"I really don't know what I'm to do with them! Here I thought Corin was the only one to get into trouble and now to find my other son a troublemaker as well…" his voice trailed off, and a slightly whimsical grin passed over his face.

"I should be willing to bet, sire, that Prince Corin had a hand in it," Shar said quietly.

King Lune looked up with a jolly smile.

"Well of course, lad! How could he not? That boy…" he chuckled heartily. "He's always in some scrape or another! When King Edmund comes to visit, you should see him try to avoid the lad! Somehow, Corin has the ability to ruffle Edmund, something no one else has ever done before! By the Lion, that lad!" The king sighed heavily and shook his head yet again.

"Oh well, young Shar. I have work to attend to. Until tomorrow, perhaps!" King Lune exclaimed, turning to go.

"Until tomorrow, Majesty," Shar replied, bowing his head in farewell.

King Lune marched out of the stable, still chuckling and muttering about his two troublemakers. Shar watched him go, unaware of the person who was sneaking up on him from behind.

"Oh!" cried a girl's voice. Shar felt something bump into him. He whirled in surprise and saw, to his astonishment, Princess Araleena backing away from him, her dark cheeks tinted a crimson that was visible even in the bad light of the stable.

"My gravest apologies to thee sir, I-oh! Why, it's _you_!" Araleena exclaimed, the embarrassed look fading as a brilliant smile flashed across her face.

"Greetings, my lady," Shar said, smiling back and trying to ignore the way his stomach flip-flopped inside of him. "Whence come thou to the stables? Surely, I never expected to find thee here."

"I was about to ask thee the same question," Araleena replied, flicking back a long strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes and casually dusting off her clothes .

"Hast thou not heard? The task which I have been given is to care for the inhabitants of these stalls," Shar replied, teasingly gesturing around as if it were a grand hall instead of an abode for horse-kind.

"I had heard, of course, my friend!" Araleena retorted with a wry smile. "My purpose here was in finding and caring for Raina."

"Raina?"

"My mare," she said, raising a dark eyebrow at him.

"Oh."

There was a moment's silence, but not an awkward one. Suddenly Araleena looked up at him and scanned her face, her smile morphing into a thoughtful frown.

"What is it?" Shar asked as he watched the change in her expression.

The princess reached up and carefully touched his cheek, the one with the long, narrow scar that sliced palely through the dark skin. Her gaze lingered on the mark, and then moved to his eyes.

"Does thy wound still give thee hurt?" she asked gravely.

"What, lady? This mite of a scratch?" Shar said with a grin. "I treasure it as a reminder of what truly grievous hurt I might have gained had thou not saved me when thou did."

He caught her hand and held it gently in his (how fragile it felt-the hand of the princess!), staring into her green-flecked eyes. It was odd for a Calormene to have eyes of green; his and the eyes of Aravis' were both brown.

"By the truth of fact, lady," Shar continued, "If thou hadst not come along when thou didst, with the Telmarine's blade at my throat, scars would matter to me very little indeed."

"Oh Shar, thou shouldst not speak of such things!" Araleena reproved him sharply. She dropped her eyes. "Never did I thank thee for designing my escape and setting me free."

"Designing thine escape? You saved my life twice!"

"And you saved mine twice as well," Araleena reminded him. She sighed deeply. "I have found contentment here."

Her eyes were sincere; they sparkled with joy and true happiness as she gazed up at him. Looking into her eyes, Shar longed to speak, to say what he had wished to from the first time he had first laid eyes on her, but the words were swallowed up in fear. Who was he to love a princess? She was royalty, and he was an outcast. She was the daughter of the Tisroc, and he, a traitor.

Shar let out a breath and let go the hand of the princess (and with it, his futile dream).

"Shar," Araleena began as he stepped back and walked toward the door, "What troubles thee? Thou seemst so far away these days. And why hast thou been avoiding me?"

"Avoiding thee, highness?"

"Yes, avoiding me. Thou knowest what I mean. Also, call me 'princess' no longer."

Shar turned and stared at her, something like passion in his eyes.

"Why should I not? Thou art a royal princess in the line of the Tisrocs, the Royal Family of Tashbaan."

His words reeked of bitterness and despair. Araleena frowned and shook her head slowly, fixing her dark green eyes on his.

"Not anymore," she said softly.

"What?"

"I have left behind the country of my birth-Calormen and its gods no longer have any claim over me. I will be," she straightened, "I _am _an Archenlander."

Shar's mind was whirling now. If she denied the right of birth, denied being a princess, than perhaps…

"Araleena," he said quietly. "Doest thou honestly mean that?"

"Aye," the girl replied. "I shall never return to Calormen. I shall marry an Archenlander, and live here in peace for the rest of my days and beyond."

Shar stepped close to her and brushed her silky, black hair away from her face.

"Lady, doest thou remember when thou found Tran and myself in the courtyard? When they were readying to hang us for treason?"

"How could I forget?" Araleena asked, sounding as if she was short of breath. "You almost died…I was so frightened…"

"When I saw you then, and even earlier, when you saved me from the Telmarine…I..."

The words stuck in his throat. He had longed to say them for so long-and yet, now at the moment of release they would not come. His eyes were closed, but he felt her hand slip gently into his. He opened his eyes, met her dark emerald gaze, and was lost.

"I love you," someone's voice whispered (it might have been his own). "I have loved you, princess, even before I was willing to admit it. And if thou canst not love me back, my life shall be worth nothing."

Araleena's eyes were wide. He could feel her breath coming quickly, feel the tension in the air. Her eyes were like wells of water, and then the wells overflowed and two single tears slipped down the smooth cheeks that he loved.

"Love thee back?" she whispered, shaking her head slowly (his heart stopped in that moment, for it seemed sure she was dismayed.). "Love thee back, Asharaad Tarkaan?" She touched his scarred cheek tenderly and flung herself forward into his arms. "I would love thee even if thou didst not love me!"

* * *

"You wanted to speak with me, brother," Corin said, grinning mockingly at Cor.

They stood in the orchard, Aravis watching.

"Yes," Cor replied through his teeth. "It's your fault I got in trouble today."

"What?" Corin asked innocently. "Me? You were the one who kept half falling asleep."

"Not that," Cor said tolerantly. "I don't like it when you laugh at me."

Corin looked down for an instant, but then looked up again.

"Is that why you challenged me?"

"Challenged you?" Cor asked in surprise. "I didn't challenge you!"

"Of course you did!" Corin replied mischievously. "That's what the message was about. Unless," he watched his brother's face carefully, "You're afraid."

Cor flushed, and Aravis knew that he wouldn't back down now.

"Oh Corin, Cor, don't!" she said, even though she knew that the attempt would fall on deaf ears.

The twins circled each other amidst the various fruit trees of the courtyard orchard. There were apple trees, and pear trees, and a tree planted from an apple of the tree of protection from Narnia, that had stood in the courtyard since Anvard was built. As usual, Cor swung first. This time, however, he got lucky, and his blow hit Corin on the right ear.

Corin backed away, stunned. Cor rarely landed a punch. Pressing his lips together, the younger twin darted forward and hit Cor in the eye.

"Ouch!" Cor muttered, glaring at Corin.

He rushed forward and grabbed his twin, pulling him to the ground, where they proceeded to wrestle. Aravis stepped forward, watching with a concerned expression on her face. She knew from experience that there was no stopping them now. After a few minutes of fierce fighting, Corin pinned his twin to the ground, grinning infuriatingly in his face.

"I just realized something," he said so softly that only Cor could hear. "You only win when Aravis is around."

"How do you explain that?" Cor panted, struggling to get up.

Corin leaned closer and whispered mockingly in his ear, "Oh dear! I do believe my brother's in love!"

From her place, Aravis didn't hear what Corin said, but she saw Cor turn bright red. He was obviously mad. And when Cor was truly mad, he was a force to be reckoned with. Cor got one hand free and socked his twin in the nose.

"Ow!" Corin cried, jerking back and giving Cor the advantage.

Now Corin was mad as well, the two boys fought all the more fiercely. Fortunately, though, someone interceded.

Aravis heard a hearty, but stern voice booming from behind her, and then King Lune stepped forward with Lord Darrin. The two men pried the boys apart eventually, though they had to hold them back to keep them from jumping at each other again. Both of the boys had a black eye.

"Now then, you two," King Lune said, looking down at Cor and over at Corin, "What's all this about, eh?"

"Well—" Corin began, but Cor cut him off.

"Nothing!"

King Lune turned him around and looked him straight in the eye.

"Cor," he said sternly.

Cor looked down, not able to meet his father's eyes.

"Now boys," Lune said wearily, "you both know how I hate fighting. I won't ask what this quarrel is about, but I want this to be the last one."

The twins glared at each other, and Corin wiped away the blood that was streaming from his nose. King Lune released Cor, and Darrin released Corin.

"Now, shake hands and make up," the king ordered.

The boys looked at their father in astonishment.

"Apologize to him!" they said in unison, and then glared more fiercely at each other.

"You heard me, boys," Lune said angrily. "And if you don't obey me right this minute…" he let his sentence trail off threateningly, but then let out a laugh.

"Aslan's mane, son," he said to Corin, "wipe your nose again. Thou certainly got in a good punch, Cor!"

Corin frowned, wiping his nose, but the king saw the look and said, "And thou, Corin! What a black eye to give thy brother! If only you would loose your anger against the enemies and not against each other!"

The two boys laughed, and Corin stepped forward and held out his hand.

"I am sorry Cor. I probably shouldn't have said all those things."

"It's all right," Cor said good naturedly, shaking his brother's hand. "But it was my fault."

King Lune watched them proudly, and shook his head.

"Now there's peace in the family again," he muttered happily, smiling down at his sons.

Then, he shook himself and said, "Well, I must be off. Got lots of things to do, you know!"

As he left the orchard, Shar and Araleena entered it. When they saw the two princes, both covered in dust and blood, Araleena gasped, and a wry smile crossed Shar's face.

"What's this? A fight between the twins?" Shar asked jokingly.

"Sort of," Corin said. "We're done now."

"And which of thee won?" Araleena asked, handing Corin a handkerchief.

He took it gratefully, and said, "We were stopped before we were really through, but Cor did get in a few good punches. My nose, for one!"

They all began laughing, but then Shar announced, "I have something to tell thee."

He especially looked at Aravis . She was eyeing him suspiciously. Somehow, his sister always knew when he had something important to say.

"What is it?" Corin asked curiously.

"Araleena and I are to be married," Shar stated bluntly.

Aravis gasped, and Cor and Corin shouted a few hurrahs.

"That's wonderful!" Aravis managed to say, her cheeks flushed in happiness for her brother.

"Than you approve?"

"Of course! Araleena's wonderful. Almost like…" she stopped, wondering if she should go on.

"Like…" Shar prodded.

"Like mother," Aravis finished softly.

"Is she? I hadn't noticed," Shar murmured, looking again at his betrothed.

"It's her eyes," Aravis admitted. "Mother had green eyes."

"Yes," Shar said thoughtfully. "Yes. Now that thou mentionest it, I recall that she did."

So Shar and Araleena were married. They made a beautiful couple, joined by King Lune himself. And Shar felt, as they walked down the aisle, that he could never be happier in his life.

_Thank you, Aslan_, he prayed joyfully. _I am home._

_**To be continued....**_


	17. Chapter 16: Sunrise

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. Or Archenland, for that matter.**

**A/N: This is after the events of the HHB, but Cor is 19 and Aravis is 18, and they are not married…yet (grins deviously). By the way, Shar is 6 years older than Aravis, and Araleena is one year younger than him, but I'll let you do the math.**

In the castle Anvard, on a misty morning, the sun had not yet risen. A lone, cloaked figure paced up and down on the stone wall above the castle gate. The mountainous realm was so peaceful before dawn. With a sigh, the figure stopped pacing and leaned back against the wall. Cor stepped out of the shadows toward the figure, and quietly said, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Aravis, the cloaked figure, gasped and felt for her dagger. Then she realized who it was.

"Cor! Don't scare me like that!" she said, half relieved, half angry. "What are you doing sneaking about?"

"Sneaking about?" Cor repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. "I suppose I was."

"You didn't answer my question," Aravis said shortly.

"Why are you out here this early?" Cor asked her.

She didn't reply.

"Look, Aravis, what's wrong?" Cor asked after a moment.

Aravis stiffened and turned away from her friend.

"What in Archenland do you mean?" she asked, but her heart was not in her words.

"I've been watching you mope about the castle. And it won't work to say that nothing's wrong."

"I have not been moping," Aravis said icily, turning back around and glaring at him.

"All right, describe it differently," Cor challenged her. "Tell me honestly that you haven't been moping."

Aravis dropped her eyes and glared at a stone on the ground. It was an ugly pebble, all grey and mottled, but she glared at it all the same.

"Aravis--"

"Oh bother you! Why can't you just leave me alone?" she let out, turning away again and putting her head in her hands and letting out an angry sob.

"Oh Aravis, don't!" Cor said gently, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off.

"Is it something I've done? Did I make you angry?"

"Did you?" Aravis shot back bitterly. "Oh, no, _Prince_ Cor. I'm sure you _couldn't_ have done _anything_ wrong."

Cor stiffened.

"Aravis—"

"Look, Cor," Aravis said, whirling around and glaring at him, showing him her tear streaked face, "I don't belong here. Why did you bring me here in the first place? I'm nothing but a—" she stopped and bit her lip, "A _Calormene_."

"What?" Cor asked abruptly. "What _are _you talking about?"

"Darrin the Second," Aravis replied angrily.

Cor's face flushed and his eyes, normally bright blue, darkened to the color of the sea before a storm.

"What did he say?" he asked in a soft, dangerous voice.

Aravis looked up hastily. When Cor was angry, he didn't shout or rave like she did. Not usually, anyway. Instead, an abnormal calm stole into his voice, and inside, she guessed, he was ready to fight the young noble already.

"Oh…nothing," she lied quickly, looking away.

"What did he say, Aravis," Cor asked again, putting his hand under her chin and making her meet his eyes.

"He…" Aravis' eyes filled with tears, "he said that I would never…I mean, could never be an Archenlander, and that I would never be good enough for...well, that I was the enemy. Oh Cor!"

Cor had let go of her and was striding away quickly, his anger evident in his stride.

"Cor!" Aravis exclaimed, catching up to him and grabbing his arm, "Cor he was angry! I beat him in an archery match. That's all! He didn't mean it. Cor, STOP!"

Cor stopped. He turned to look down at her, and saw that a tear had fallen from one of her dark eyes, down her pale face.

"I don't want you to do something rash!" she said softly.

"I…" Cor searched for words, "I'm sorry, Aravis. I feel responsible for bringing you here."

"Oh Cor…"

"I should've known that you wouldn't like it here. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Cor, stop it," Aravis said, her anger resurfacing once more.

"Stop what?"

"Stop being so…so…such a self-sacrificing—perfect—Oh I don't know!" Aravis said, biting her lip, a few more tears escaping from her eyes.

She put her head in her arms again and began sobbing in earnest.

"You're _too _nice sometimes," she said through the tears.

Cor awkwardly put an arm around her, and just waited in silence.

"What's this?" asked a smooth voice from among the shadows.

Aravis gasped, and Cor pushed her behind him. A figure in a dark cape, seeming to be one with the shadows, stepped out of the shadow of the guardhouse, and then a familiar face appeared from under the cowl.

"Oh Shar!" Aravis sputtered. "You boys are almost too much to stand! Why can't you walk loudly like any other normal human?"

"Are you all right, Aravis?" Shar asked his sister.

He sent an icy stare at Cor, who immediately stepped away from the girl.

"I'm…I'm fine," she said, sniffing once more and wiping her face with her sleeve. "How long were you there?"

"Long enough," her brother said, gesturing toward the shadows.

A dark haired figure in a blue dress stepped forward: Araleena.

"Come on, dear," the princess said gently to Aravis. "It's time you were in bed."

"But it's morning!" the girl replied sleepily.

"Not quite. You look dreadfully tired."

Araleena and Aravis disappeared into the shadows, but Aravis sent Cor a small smile before she left. He began to smile back, but when he caught sight of Shar's face, it disappeared completely.

"All right, Prince," Shar said softly. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask?"

"Ask what?" Cor asked in confusion.

"Look, boy," Shar said, drawing close and looking down on Cor, only a few inches taller than the younger man, "I'm sure it's against the law to murder the heir to the throne, but if you so much as touch my sister…" he grabbed Cor's shirt and glared at him fiercely, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously.

"What in Archenland are you insinuating?" Cor asked, attempting to sound like he wasn't afraid.

It didn't work. Shar's face darkened.

"You know what I mean, _Prince_," he spat. "Leave. My. Sister. Alone. Just because you're royalty doesn't mean you can say or do whatever you want to her."

"Hey wait a second," Cor said angrily, ripping free of Shar's hold and stepping back, his eyes blazing, "I didn't do anything!"

"Then why was she crying?" Shar asked coldly.

"She was angry," Cor admitted.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Cor repeated in exasperation and running a hand through his golden curls. "She was mad at…another boy. The boy she beat in an archery match."

"Was she?"

"Yes!" Cor looked up and met Shar's eyes. "Why is it that you blame me for everything that makes her angry or upset? What have I done to deserve your enmity?"

"I found her crying, and you were the one nearest her," Shar replied with cold logic.

"That wasn't what I asked. Besides, it wasn't my fault!" Cor shouted, now glaring at Shar. "I was trying to help."

"It's _my _place to help my sister," Shar shouted back.

"So where were you?" Cor said simply.

Shar bit back his retort and thought about it. Where had he been? In the past few years, he had been so busy with his new wife that he hadn't been there for Aravis. And the worst thing was, he hadn't even noticed.

"You abandoned her," Cor said. "I was just trying to help."

"Abandoned her?" Shar repeated in a defensive tone, but knowing in his heart that the prince was right.

"Yes."

Shar closed his eyes. He had deserted his sister. Again. When she needed him most. He had sworn that he would learn from his mistakes, and yet he had done it again. _Forgive me, Aslan_! He prayed.

"It is not I you should ask forgiveness of," the great lion's voice replied in his mind.

"I'm sorry, Cor," Shar said after a moment. "I was wrong to blame you. It was my fault. Can you forgive me?"

Cor met his eyes, the bright blue and the dark brown finally meeting in forgiveness, and the prince said, "Of course, Shar."

Cor started walking away, but then stopped, fidgeted a little and looked down at the ground. "Oh, and uh…Shar?"

"Yes?"

There was a strange anxiety in Cor's voice. A nervousness that hadn't been there ever before.

"I…I suppose you're the one I should ask permission of…since your father..."

"What?" Shar asked, looking at Cor questioningly.

Cor blushed furiously, and then stood up straight and looked Shar in the eye.

"Do you have anything against me marrying your sister?"

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Aravis slipped out of her room after Araleena left. Somehow, she wasn't ready to sleep. She had told herself that she would see the sunrise, and when Aravis put her mind to something, well, she did it. Pulling her cloak back on as she sneaked down the corridor, she came to the door to the outer wall. Aravis stepped out, and ran head on into Cor, knocking them both to the stone floor.

"Oh! I'm sorry," he said, immediately apologizing as he jumped up and held out his hand. "Why are you going out again?"

"To see the sunrise," Aravis replied, ignoring his gallant attempt to help her stand and got to her feet on her own. Slipping past him, she walked to the wall, looking to the East where she knew the sun would rise. She heard Cor walk over to her and stand next to her in silence.

"Beautiful morning," he said finally.

"Yes," Aravis agreed. "Cor," she said after another moment of silence, "Thank you for being here for me. It's nice to know I have a friend to talk to."

"Don't mention it," the prince said distractedly.

Aravis watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was fidgeting, looking down at his tunic, then over at a tree past the wall. And every now and then, glancing at her.

"All right, Cor," she said at last. "Are you going to tell me?"

"What?" Cor asked, turning to face her.

"What's bothering you?" she asked gently. "You haven't acted this nervous since…since Corin challenged you to that jousting match."

"I'm not nervous," Cor replied indignantly.

Aravis rolled her eyes.

"Um, Aravis?" he said finally.

"What?"

"Well…um…"

Aravis turned to look at her friend. To her surprise, she saw that his eyes were closed, and he was biting his lip.

_Oh, help me Aslan!_ Cor prayed silently

"What's wrong with you, Cor?" Aravis asked, grinning a little.

A resolute look came over the prince's face, and he knelt. Looking her in the eye, her smiling brown eyes, Prince Cor of Archenland said slowly, "Aravis…will you marry me?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shar stood in the shadows watching the two young people. He watched Cor close his eyes, and summon up the courage he needed, and he watched his sister's face as a puzzled expression came over it. When Cor knelt and asked her the question, Shar was amazed at all the different emotions that washed over Aravis' face all at once. Confusion; fear; comprehension; joy…love.

And in astonishment, Shar watched his little sister's eyes fill with tears. The girl who never cried, who was strong and emotionless. Tears rolled down herbrown cheeks as she nodded slowly and managed to whisper, "Yes."

Cor's face lit up.

"Yes? You'll marry me?"

"Of course I will, Cor!" Aravis sobbed happily, smiling through the tears.

Cor jumped to his feet and held her, and she put her head on his shoulder. As they stood in silence, from the East, a bright golden light broke through the mist. And then, as the two friends faced the morning sun, Cor faced the girl who had stood through all the dangers he had ever faced, the one who was always, and always would be there for him.

Aravis' tears ran freely down her face as she stared up into those bright blue eyes of the boy she had learned to trust, the boy who had saved her life and her future. 

"I love you, Aravis," he said, brushing her hair back and catching a tear.

"I love you, Cor," Aravis replied softly, just loudly enough for Shar to hear.

Shar turned away to leave the two friends to themselves, but the expression on Aravis' face stayed with him, as did the words, "I love you."

**A/N: Hope that wasn't too mushy for you. I know my friend, who I call Aravis, is going to hate me for this chapter, but I really felt like I should let that happen. The next chapter is the last, and we're going back to Calormen, to the province of Calavar, which has been absent of love for fivelong years...**


	18. Chapter 17: Only the Beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. If you didn't figure that out before this chapter, than you must really lack powers of observation. Because it's been 17 chapters (not counting this one) and I've said it on every one of them. At the top, too.**

**A/N: This takes place one year later. Didi is 14. **

**Okay. It's been a crazy ride. This was my second attempt at a long fanfic, and I think it's been pretty fun. I've had a great time writing this, and (hopefully) creating believable characters. So now it comes to the final chapter. **

**What will become of our brave heroine? Well, if you've been patient enough to read all 17 previous chapters, than I think you deserve to know. That's right. This is it. The last chapter. I've made it long. Please enjoy it. And if you get a chance, don't hesitate to review. I live for reviews. ;) Well…okay maybe not **_**live**_** for reviews, but you get the idea. Okay. I'll be quiet now. I hate long Author's notes at the beginning too.**

Yazhaan was merely doing his normal day's work when he saw her. His job, now that he was too old for manual labor, was to oversee the work and tell the other slaves what to do. Usually, he sat on a hard chair under one of the only trees on the land, and that's where he was when he saw the two guards dragging the girl in from the gate that led to the outside.

"My captains," he cried, approaching the guards. "Whither art thou going?"

"Get out of our way, old man," one of the guards said. "We bring a prisoner; an escaped slave."

It was then that Yazhaan recognized the girl.

Although it had been three years since she had escaped, the long black hair and prominent cheekbones were as breathtaking as before. It was Saleena, Zamiraleena's slave girl.

"Ah, the Tarkaan, my lord, will be most grateful. I will take the girl now—" Yazhaan began.

"No!" the second guard shouted. "We have our orders. We are to take her to her mistress."

Yazhaan looked down at Saleena, who had recognized him by now, and gave a small shake of his head by way of apology. There was no more he could do.

--

In a forested land, across an ocean so far that none could travel its length, a king stood in a glade of trees. The king's sword was drawn, and before him stood an evil knight in black armor with a horrible red dragon painted on his shield.

"I do not wish to fight you," the noble king cried.

The black knight sneered.

"You are a coward!"

The king raised his head and replied, in a voice that shook the ground, "I challenge you to a duel to the death!"

A flicker of fear flashed through the black knight's eyes. The king was known throughout the kingdom for his excellent swordsmanship.

"Will you accept my challenge, or are you the coward?" the king asked, leaning close to the knight's face.

The knight's face darkened.

"I will fight you to the death!" he replied angrily.

The two men drew their swords and advanced.

"Rishdi!" a loud cry from the house brought Didi out of his daydream.

The dark knight vanished into thin air with a sneer, and Didi heard him say, "We shall meet again, king!"

Didi sighed and glared at the woman who came running toward him.

"Rishdi, what are you doing with that stick?"

Didi gave his stepmother an indignant look.

"It's a _sword, _and my name isn't Rishdi, it's _Didi._"

"A sword?" Zamiraleena laughed nastily. "Whatever you say, _Rishdi_, darling."

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Didi asked.

"Yes."

Zamiraleena's eyes flashed back toward the house, and Didi was reminded of the black knight from his daydream.

"We found that servant girl, Rishdi," she said through her teeth.

"What servant girl? You came out here just to tell me that?" Didi replied in annoyance.

Zamiraleena slapped him; Didi yelped and pulled away, but his stepmother had a firm grip on his arm.

"None of your insolence with me, boy," she hissed angrily. "I know you were involved in Saleena's escape."

Didi's heart sank when he heard the name of his stepmother's slave whom he had helped escape three years before, but he gave no outward sign that he knew what she meant.

"What in Calormen do you mean?" he asked in false bewilderment.

Without an answer, Zamiraleena dragged him back to the house.

Saleena was tied between two posts, but there was no blood on her back. Yet. Didi drew back, but Zamiraleena shoved him forward. Kidrash sat in a chair nearby, muttering sadly to himself. After Aravis had run away, he had drawn in on himself even more, and now, his mind was almost gone. It was as if he was dead.

"She told us you helped her," the woman hissed. "She betrayed you!"

"I don't know what you mean," Didi denied stubbornly.

"Yes you do," Zamiraleena hissed. "I know you helped her escape."

She signaled to a guard, who stood behind the girl, a long, cruel black whip in his hands. Didi's eyes widened as the horrible truth dawned on him. If he didn't confess, than she would suffer.

"Guard," his stepmother said, staring at the boy with a wicked smile.

The guard nodded and threw back his hand, swinging the whip back and preparing to bring it down on the slave girl's back.

--

"Are we there yet?"

Aravis sighed for what must have been the thirtieth time and shot Corin The Look.

"No, we're not there yet!"

Shar grinned from behind the three friends with Araleena beside his side at the impatience of the younger prince.

"Calm down, Corin. We'll get there when we get there."

Corin fidgeted on the back of his black stallion, and turned around to face the others.

"I'm going to go ahead!"

Cor sat up and said, "Corin!"

His twin stopped and looked back at his brother, bright blue eyes twinkling.

"Yes, brother?"

"You remember what Father said, don't you?"

Corin's eyes twinkled a little less merrily, and he groaned.

"Cor! Honestly, the way you and Father go on about the dangers of a foreign land—"

"It really is dangerous, Corin," Aravis said seriously before he could continue.

He sent a charming smile her way, but then the smile froze on his face. Her expression was a mix of many things; fear, anger, regret… Cor noticed his brother's change of expression and reached over and touched Aravis' arm.

"It's alright, Aravis," he said softly. "You're a free Archenlander."

"But he's my Father!" Aravis blurted out. "And we're back in Calavar where he has his way. What if…"

Shar was about to go to her, but Cor kicked his horse and rode up beside her, grabbing her arm and looking into her eyes.

"Stop worrying," he said gently. "I won't let him take you back."

Aravis looked at him, and her liquid brown eyes filled with the stubborn resolve that Cor was used to seeing.

"Try and let him," she said with a small grin.

Corin watched them with something like happy disgust.

"Lovebirds," he scoffed playfully, receiving a glare from Aravis in return. "Catch me if you can!"

He kicked his stallion and flew forward, kicking up pebbles behind him. Araleena laughed out loud. Cor groaned, but Aravis gave him a sidelong glance and kicked her mare, chasing after Corin. With his two competitive companions ahead, Cor had no choice but to squeeze his horse into a gallop and follow.

"Should we go after them?" Araleena wondered.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Shar replied with another grin.

The servants and guards from Archenland all murmured with relief. They had no wish to go galloping after their young masters and mistress. After riding along the coast through the desert, the small party from Archenland had stayed a few days in Tashbaan, and then continued on to Calavar.

After all the years away from home, Aravis knew it was time to face her father, especially after receiving a visit from Aslan…

_"Aslan!" Aravis cried, dropping her bow on the grass of the Archery range as she turned to face the great Lion. _

_"Daughter of Eve," Aslan replied, nodding his head at her and gazing into her eyes. "We meet again."_

_"It's such a wonderful surprise," Aravis said breathlessly, smiling up at him._

_"You might not be so happy when I tell you why I have come."_

_Aravis' grin became a bit smaller._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"My child, you must go back to Calavar. Your father is in need of you…as is the one whom you suffered for wronging."_

_"Saleena?" Aravis asked, remembering the servant girl and feeling the faded scars on her back twinge. "Is it because of what I did?"_

_"That is for you to discover," Aslan said solemnly, his deep, deep eyes staring straight into her soul. "You must leave immediately. I have already spoken to the ones you will go with."_

_He looked into her eyes, which were filling with tears at the memory of her family. How would they react? Would her father make her stay? What about Zamiraleena? _

_"I know you do not want to return, but you must. Trust me, Aravis."_

_"Yes, Aslan," Aravis replied determinedly. "I will go back."_

_Slowly, the great beast opened his mouth, and breathed strength upon her. Then, Aravis blinked, and he was gone._

Aravis slowed her horse to a walk as she and Corin approached her childhood home. It all looked the same; a bit overrun with weeds, and less taken care of than the last times her eyes had seen it, but still the same. Cor rode up behind them, panting and gasping for breath.

"Corin, when I get my hands on you—"

"Oh lighten up, brother," Corin said light-heartedly. "It was a wonderful ride!"

The courtiers arrived within another minute. As they rode up to the gate, Aravis swung off her horse and lead it forward. Tying it to a post, where she had tied Hwin dozens of times in the past, she stepped toward the front gate. Strangely, no guards stood guarding the gate, as they had in the past.

"Aravis," Aravis looked back at Cor, who had stopped and had a look of uneasiness on his face, "Shouldn't we wait for the others?"

Shaking her head, Aravis pushed it open and cautiously stepped inside. Cor was right behind her, and Corin behind him. They were all painfully silent. As they neared the main courtyard, Aravis heard a well remembered, mocking voice say, "Guard."

Then, a hateful sound cracked through the silence: the sound of a whip. Followed by a shout of surprise and a yelp of pain. Aravis tried to run forward, but Cor grabbed her arm and pushed her back. Aravis frowned, and was about to protest as he stepped in front of her when she heard the terrible voice shriek,

"You little brat! Give me that whip!"

"Zamiraleena!" she gasped.

And in an instant she knew what was happening.

"What?" asked Cor, glancing back at her.

Aravis tried to push forward, but he held her back.

"What's going on?"

"My stepmother's finally lost—"

Another crack of the whip interrupted her, and another pained cry pierced the air.

"Mira! Stop!"

Aravis gasped again as she heard her father's voice fill the air.

"I think it's high time to find out what's going on here," Cor said loudly, stepping forward, around Corin, and through the courtyard gate. Aravis and Corin followed him.

Standing in the courtyard, black whip raised and black garments flying stood Zamiraleena, a wicked frown on her face. Kidrash Tarkaan was struggling with two muscular guards, his face confused but angry. A slave girl was tied between two posts, but standing in front of her, with a painful, bloody lash on his arm, stood a young boy, perhaps fourteen years old.

"Didi!" Aravis cried as she recognized the boy.

"Sister?" Didi gasped.

Zamiraleena stepped forward and grabbed her stepson's arm and threw him to the ground. Then, she flicked the lash at him swiftly.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," she muttered evilly as he yelped in pain at the new cuts on his back.

"Stop!" Aravis screamed, leaping forward.

A soldier stepped forward from out of nowhere, grabbing her arms and holding her back. Cor and Corin moved forward in unison, but were also taken captive by huge, Calormene guards. Zamiraleena glided forward, looking closely at Aravis who was struggling to escape from her captor.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Then, the Tarkheena remembered Didi's exclamation.

"Aravis!" she exclaimed with a small burst of angry laughter. Then coldly, "Aravis. Of course. I recall now."

She flicked the whip in her stepdaughter's face, leaving an angry red stripe down Aravis' right cheek. Cor's blue eyes blazed as he struggled angrily with his guards as he watched his friend.

"Now, Daughter of my Husband," she said, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Kidrash, "You will die once and for all."

Aravis looked down and saw, gleaming in her stepmother's hands, a very sharp very dangerous dagger. Cor saw it too, and managed to throw one guard off balance. Before he could do anything, though, Zamiraleena raised her dagger arm and cackled maniacally, thrusting the dagger forward. Cor, having gotten rid of the other guard, leapt forward, but realized it was too late. Aravis screamed.

"No!" Cor yelled.

--

Didi saw it all. He had a perfect view, from the ground to the right of Aravis and his stepmother. His arm and shoulders were still throbbing from the lashes of the whip, and his head was spinning. He saw Zamiraleena draw her dagger, and he tried to crawl forward to protect his sister, but an angry guard held him back. The courtyard was silent as the knife drew back into the air, and then fell forward. It was then, right at the fatal moment, that Didi saw a blur leap through the air and land between Aravis and Zamiraleena.

Yazhaan had followed the guards into the courtyard and watched as the scene unfolded before him. His eyes widened in surprise and joy when he saw Aravis appear in the doorway. And he watched in horror as Zamiraleena drew her dagger back, ready to kill her stepdaughter.

It was then that Yazhaan acted. He acted not out of instinct, or out of servitude, but out of love. The love that a servant has for his mistress. The love that a father has for his daughter, even if Aravis was not really his daughter. Acting in love, Yazhaan leapt between Aravis and the dagger.

"No!" Aravis screamed as she watched her oldest friend fall before her.

Cor jumped forward and grabbed Zamiraleena, holding her arms back. Yazhaan looked up at the lady he had served since the day she was born.

"My lady," he murmured, his light blue eyes gazing into hers.

Aravis' eyes filled with tears as she glanced down at the dagger protruding from his chest. He was dying. He knew it, too.

"I have not died in vain, Aravis," he said softly, reaching up and touching her cheek.

The Archenlandish soldiers were filling the courtyard now with Shar leading them, forcing Zamiraleena's men to release Kidrash and Corin. Aravis' tears dripped down her cheeks, and she murmured,

"Why Yazhaan? Why would you give your life for me?"

"My lady," the old servant gasped. "I have lived many years, and heard many tales. I was not always from Calormen. I was born a Narnian."

"What?" Aravis sobbed.

Yazhaan merely nodded and continued.

"You have heard of the king of Narnia? King Edmund? There was something he used to say…" the old man's eyes glazed over as he tried to remember. "Ah. 'Greater love hath no man than this: that he would lay down his life for his friend'."

Aravis sobbed as she hugged her old friend and said,

"Thank you Yazhaan. For everything. I…I will see you again, someday?"

"Yes, my lady," Yazhaan said, smiling. "In Aslan's country, we shall meet again."

He breathed one last shuddering breath, and whispered,

"Aravis…morning star…" and then grew still. Aravis bit her lip as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Cor.

He grabbed her shoulders and hugged her like he would never let go.

"I thought I'd lost you!" he said softly, holding her close. "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"He's gone," Aravis said, looking down at Yazhaan. "He was my oldest friend, and I never realized it until now. Until he had to die."

"Shhh…It's all right," Cor murmured. "He understood."

He lifted her chin and spotted the mark that the whip had left.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his tone immediately filled with concern.

"I'm…" Aravis glanced at Zamiraleena, who was struggling with her captors, her face twisted in anger. "I'm fine."

"You!" Zamiraleena shrieked, staring at Shar. "I know you!"

"Shar of Archenland, at your service," Shar said with a bow.

"Asharad Tarkaan!" she screamed, her eyes opened wide in terror. "But…but you're dead!"

She pushed back against the guards, cowering from her stepson.

"May the gods have mercy! Tash! Take your subject from the clutches of the living dead!"

Suddenly, a cold breath of air filled the courtyard. Aravis and Cor both shivered, and the guards dropped Zamiraleena and jumped back. Kidrash let out a strangled cry and fell to his knees.

Before them, looking like a ghoul himself floated Tash, the Inexorable the Irresistible.

"My lord," Zamiraleena shrieked, falling on her face. "I have done all you asked!"

Cor felt Aravis shudder, and tightened his arms around her. The demon floated forward, his figure wispy like smoke, but a cold blue color. Its four arms reached for the Tarkheena, and its beak opened.

"So you have," it shrieked, a rasping sound, "And you shall receive your reward…in my country!"

Zamiraleena screamed as Tash grabbed her and then, the demon turned to face Kidrash Tarkaan.

"You have served me long as well," Tash hissed.

Kidrash was face down on the ground.

"I do not serve you," he said, looking up.

"You have served me all your days," the demon hissed, and reached for him.

Kidrash let out a strangled cry, but before Tash could touch him, a slender figure slipped in between the monster and the man.

"Leave my father alone!" Aravis cried, defying the demon god of Calormen.

"He is my prey," Tash growled. "He is mine to take."

"I will not let you," Aravis shouted. She hesitated, and then raised her stubborn chin. "Take me instead."

"Aravis, no!" Cor shouted, jumping forward. Some mysterious force held him back.

Tash hissed again, and then an evil smile came across his face.

"A willing victim, taken in a traitor's stead? The deep magic allows such an exchange. So be it."

"Noooooooo!" Cor screamed, trying to reach the girl.

Aravis' tears were flowing, but her face was resolute. She looked toward her best friend in the world and nodded goodbye. Then, she closed her eyes and prepared to meet her fate. Tash reached for her, and then stopped as if frozen. A golden light filled the courtyard, and Cor turned. There stood Aslan, the great Lion of Narnia. Tash drew back from Aravis and stared hesitantly at Aslan.

"You cannot have her," the Lion said.

"She has given herself up."

"I take her back. And those who are willing to follow me instead of you. For the deep magic has been given new meaning. I have taken the traitor's stead. No traitor can now die that will follow me."

Aslan looked at Kidrash, who nodded quickly. Aravis seemed frozen and did not move.

"Begone, foul demon. And take your prey with you." Aslan said, and Tash disappeared, taking Zamiraleena with him.

Aravis collapsed, but Kidrash was there, his arms catching her before she could fall to the ground.

"Aravis," Kidrash murmured, brushing a piece of hair back from his daughter's face. "I thought you were dead! I thought I drove you to it, with my evil choice to marry you to Ahoshta. And after all that…you would still love me enough…"

Aravis smiled as she sat up and looked at her father, her brown eyes full of the same love that had been in Yazhaan's eyes.

"Of course I love you, father. I will always love you."

They embraced, and then Kidrash stood up. Cor helped Aravis to her feet.

"You alright?" he asked for the second time that day.

She was about to reply, when she heard her father's surprised exclamation.

"It cannot be!"

Shar stood before his father, his face happy and afraid at the same time. After all these years…would he be forgiven for lying about his death?

"It is, Father," Shar replied, his voice breaking with emotion. "I am alive and well."

"Asharad!" Kidrash exclaimed, embracing his eldest son in joy.

Cor looked around the courtyard. Corin was busy untying the slave girl who was chained to the posts. He blushed when she thanked him gratefully, and Cor smiled secretively. The young Calormen, the one Aravis had called Didi, was standing by Cor's twin, and looking a bit nervously around him at all the Archenlandish guards. In their joy, no one had noticed that Aslan had gone.

"Didi!" Aravis cried when she noticed him. In the confusion with Tash, her younger brother had been driven from her mind.

Didi's eyes darted to her, and when he noticed her again, he started toward her.

"Aravis!" he said softly when she grabbed his shoulders and twirled him around. "I knew you weren't dead."

"Oh Didi! How much you've changed!"

"And you as well," her brother replied with a grin. "You're much taller than you were, and you look…"

"What?"

Didi's eyes grew a bit sad, and he said,

"Like Mother."

Aravis smiled sadly at him; then she saw his arm.

"Didi! What happened?" she asked, grabbing his upper arm, which was not hurt, and looking closely at the lash that circled his arm.

"That woman was about to beat Saleena. I wasn't about to let her get hurt because of me," Didi explained rather too quickly for Aravis, who winced at the mention of her stepmother's slave.

"What? Why was Saleena in trouble? And how was it your fault?"

"She got into a lot of trouble when you left without her. So much trouble that I helped her escape. And apparently she was caught today, and our stepmother figured it out."

Aravis' scars panged at the mention of what had happened, and she knew that she needed to say something to the slave girl whose life had been ruined because of her.

"Saleena?" she said, approaching the girl.

Corin stood next to the slave, talking to her quietly, and looked up in surprise when Aravis spoke.

"My lady," Saleena said, immediately recognizing her, and falling to her knees.

"Don't," Aravis said quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her back up. "I…I want to apologize for everything I've done. I realize now that it was my fault…all this," she gestured around.

Aravis looked down at the weedy grass, and said, "I'm dreadfully sorry. And I can make it up to you. Really. You can stay in Archenland…and never have to worry about anything again."

A small hand on her shoulder stopped her. Aravis looked into Saleena's face, and saw compassion.

"I thank you for your apology," the girl said sincerely, "but you must not feel like it is your fault. I was wrong to follow Zamiraleena. I should be asking your forgiveness."

"It's alright," Aravis said. "Everything is fine now."

--

"Didi!"

Didi turned at the sound of his name, and saw the tall, strong man who seemed so familiar. His face, although it had a long scar from his ear to his jaw line, seemed like someone he knew.

"It's me!" the man said, stepping toward him.

Then everything clicked. It was Shar.

"Shar?" Didi asked quietly, certain that confusion was evident on his face. "But you're dead!"

"I'm afraid I'm not, little brother," Shar said. "I had to pretend I was, though. It's a long story."

Didi stood there for a long moment. Shar waited. Finally, Didi's face lit up into a wide grin as he flung himself at his older brother.

"You're alive!"

Later, as she watched them all gathered about in the courtyard, chatting and talking like old friends, Aravis felt a golden sunlight fall on her from the south. She turned to watch the sunset, and felt Cor walk up behind her.

"Is this it?" she wondered aloud. "Is this the end of all our adventures together?"

"No," said Cor certainly. "It's not."

Aravis heard him stand beside her, and together they watched the setting sun, and the rays of golden sunlight filled Cor's golden hair, and Aravis' brown hair with a sort of luminous glory. For a moment, before the sun disappeared below the horizon, Aslan's face appeared, turning toward the two friends. With a proud smile, the great Lion breathed out, and then disappeared, leaving five words echoing in their minds.

"It is only the beginning…"

_Fin._


End file.
